PR 



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,^5^6 H'S STANDARD DRAMA. 
\870 



THE HUNCHBACK. 



% Diitg, 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY JAMES SHESIDAN KKOWLSSj 



WITH THB AUTHOR'S LATES' CORRECTIONS, 



WITH THE STAGE BUSINESS, CAST OF CiIARAO- i 
TEKS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c j \ 



XEJi'- VOR.r: 



?.muei 

"2 Nassau 



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C!ass_ZS4g51 
Book . K ^ i-^ ^ 



d 



Nu. XV. 
NCH'S STANDARD DRAMA 



E H UN C H B A C K. 

IN FIVE ACTS. 

JAMES SHERIDAN KNO.WLES. 

WITH THE AUTHOR'S LATEST CORRECTIONS. 

HE STAGE BUSINESS, CAST OF CHARACTERS, COS- 
TUMES. RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c. 

EIIFOIIMED BY MR. KNOWLKS, MR. AND MISS KEMBLE, 
MR. AND MRS. CHARLES KEAN 

: ONLY UNMUTILAXED ED|-riON.^^''' 
Vito the Stag<v OsiissiioDs c.^r»t*uily marked with inverted 



NEW YORK: 

tTEL FRENCH, PUBLISHER, 
12 2 Nassau Street, 



CASsT OF CHARACTERS 

Covcnt Garden, 1832. Park, 1845. Chemtt. St 

iSasttr Walter Mr. J. S. Knowles. Mr. Bass. Mr. Ma^wc '. 

Sir Thomas Clifford . " C. Kemble. " Chas. Kean. " Cha,». K 

Lord Tinsel " V/rer.cli. *' De Walden. " Miudoc 

Modus " Abbott. " G.Barrett " Rowbul 

Wathom " Meadows. " Fisher. '■ Wat.soii 

Master TVilford " J. MasoE » Crocker. " J. G. Po . 

Master Heartwell " Evans. " Anderson. " Walsteir 

*»^ayloce .• " Henry. " Pearson. " Dariey. 

Thomas " Barnes. •' Povey. ' Kent. 

Stephe7t " Payne. " MDouall. " Jervis. 

Simpson " Brady. " Bulard. ■' Broad. 

Williams " Irwin. " Gourlay. " Eberlc. 

Holdwell " Bender. " Gallott. " Craddoc' 

Servant " Cooper. " King. " BrittiBgli 

Julia Miss F. Kcnible. Mrs. Chas. Kean Miss Fanny Ki 

Pelen Miss Taylor. Mrs. Abbott. Mr?. Rowboth 



COSTUMES. 

MASTER WALTER.— Black Old-English doublet, puffed witli 

silk or black satin, black mantle, black cap aud plume, sworis 

cane. 
SIR THOMAS CLIFFORD.— Dark coloured doublet richly b'lv.- 

with crimson, dark mantle, trunks trimmed with lace, russet I -. 

buff hat and white feathers, ruff, and sword with handsome scab; 
LORD TINSEL. — Blue and silver jacket and pantaloons, trim. 

with silk cord, plated buttons, fancy coloured vest, hat and feat:. 

silk stockings with gold clocks. 
MODUS. — Brown Old-English dress trimmed with blue, hat anc. • 

thers. 
FATHOM.— Old-English livery. 
FASTER WILFORD.— First dress: Old-English doublet andmai 

slightly ornamented. — Second dress: Rich nobleman's suit, — f. . 

''olour'sd jacket a:..^ pantaloons trimmed with lace, — trunks, 

..nd mantle trimmed, — russet boots, and rich cap and feathers. 
^>rLIA. — First dress: White muslin, trimmed with iace. — Sec. 

dress : White satin gown, with silk spencer or boddice according' 

taste, hat aud ostrich feathers. — Third dress : White sarin robe c 

demi-traia, trimmed with lace, white satin shoes. 
HELEN. — First dress : White musliu trimmed with pink or blue ; i 

and girdle of the same. — second dress of satin. 

EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 
R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Do 
8. £. Second Entrance; U. E. Upp^r Entrance; M. D. Middle D 

RELATIVE POSITIONS. 
B., mean* Right; L., Left; C, Centre; R. C, Right of Cent 
L C„ Left of Centre. 



JtJB. Passages marked with Inverted Commas, arc usually omitted in tie 
revresentation. 



/ '/■Z4'&P 



CJ 



EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 

7aE appearance of " The Hunchback" marked au era in the historj 
kf English dramatic literature. It did much to resKjre a taste for the- 
atrical entertainments of an elevated character both in England and 
the United States, and to silence the cry of those critical croakers, the 
continual burthen of whose lament was " the decline of the drama." 
A freshness and frankness in the spirit, a heartiness in the tone, and a 
manly, muscular energy in the language of this admirable play, called 
to mind the dramatists of the day of Elizabeth. And yet Knowles is 
no imitator. His style is singularly original. Indeed it is sometimes 
a little too liberally garnished with absolute Knuwles'isms ; as where 
he attains conciseness of expression at the price of obscurity, or, by 
the convolution of his sentences, conceals without invigorating the 
sentiment. 

" The Hunchback" was first produced the 5th of April, 1832, at the 
Covent Garden Theatre. It had been oflfered to the managers uf the 
rival house of Drury Lane ; but they had been either so obtuse or so 
impolitic as to slight its claims to their attention. The penalty for 
their neglect was, that they were obliged to close their doors a month 
before the usual period, simply because no attraction they could offer 
could compete with that of the new play. 

Its success was instant and imposing. In the part of Julia, Miss 
Fanny Kemble surpassed all her former efforts. " It was," says a 
contemporary critic, who also writes like a candid one, " a noble and 
at the same time a most touching performances noble in the sustained 
energy of its passion in some of the scenes, and touching in the pure 
depths of its pathos in others. Her exclamation (in the scene v/itb 
Master Walter) of' Do it .'' with reference to the breaking off the hated 
match with the Earl, was the most remarkable instance of the first, 
and her cry — half fond, half froward and impatient— of ' Clifford, is il 
you?' was an exquisite example of the other. 

"But the great novelty of the night was the acting of Mr. Knowles 
himself, in the character of Master Walter \ and we can agree witb 
all the praise, and but .ittle, if any, of the censure, which have been 
bestowed upon his performance. It was in many parts the most natu- 
r«l that we remoaber to have seen on the English stage : it wa« in 



IV EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 

some parts vigorous, and even dignified, and it was intell^yjtual and 
original in all. We speak of the mellowed performance, not that a< 
the first night, in which the actor commenced under an erroneous im 
pression as to the effect and capability of his physical powers, with re 
ference to the locality on which they were to be employed. 

** Finally, Mr. Kemble's Clifford was a delightful specimen of grace 
ful and gentlemanly propriety ; and Miss Taylor's Helen, though great 
J.y overdone, was full of sterling comic humor and vivacity." 

Most of the London critics were less complimentary in their com 
ments upon the acting of Mr. Knowles. One of them remarked : "Hif 
voice is without modulation, always in one loud key, pumping out the 
words ; which are, moreover, enriched with a genuine and classic 
brogue." 

Soon after " The Hunchback" had been made familiar to English 
play-goers, those of this country had an opportunity of witnessing the 
excellent performances of Mr. Charles Kembleand his daughter in this 
piece. Subsequently, Mr. Knowles himself made us a visit, and im- 
personated Master Walter in our principal cities. We knew and 
loved the man ; but must turn informer to posterity so far as to confess 
that his brogue, even in acting, was rich and ripe. How could it be 
otherwise, when he was so thoroughly national as to be well content 
with the familiar prefix of Paddy to his name? He dicr net attract 
large audiences at our theatres ; although respect for the dramatist and 
affection for the man secured him some substantial returns. It was 
often a subject of regret with us, that our laws for the protection of 
literary property were not such, that he could derive some benefit 
from the frequent performance o those sterling productions of hia 
genius, " The Hunchback," and " The Wife." Here were foreign 
managers and actors making their thousands in this country out of the 
fruits of his dramatic toil ; while he was debarred from exacting a 
penny from these persons for the use of his popular plays ' When shall 
we have legislators with souls to rectify such rank injustice ? 

The character of Julia has been a sort of test-part for the display 
of the abilities of nearly all the accomplished actresses, who have ap- 
peared upon our boards since the production of " The Hunchback * 
Miss Vincent, Miss Wheatley, Miss Phillips, Miss Jarman, and Mrs. 
Charles Kean, have been deservedly praised for their exquisite em- 
bodyings of Master Walter's wayward daughter. Recently Mrs 
Mowatt, who is the peer of any one of her predecessors in the respect 
of talent if not of stage experience, has added this part to her role, and 
won new laurels by her spirited personation of it in me Southern 
theatres. 

The scene of " The Hunchback" is laid about the time of Charles 1. 
The story is that of a father, who, in consequence of Ihs personal d* 



EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. ^ 

formity, imagices that his daughter will be wanting in filial aSectbn, 
and so brings her up in ignorance of their true relationship. She 
knows him only as Master Walter, her kind friend and guardian. Ho 
proves in the end to be therightfal possessor of the peerage of Rochdale; 
but before this is discovered, he has found in the person of Sir Thomas 
ClilFord a suitor for his daughter. Julia, while yet a simple country 
!iiaiden, accepts this suitor ; but on being tried by the gayeties of a 
city life, she enters into them so heartily as to make her lover question! 
ths sincerity of her attachment to himself. She takes offence at hia 
monitions, and, while her pride is stung and her resentment aroused, 
consents — " only to show him she can wed above him" — to receive 
the addresses of the supposed Earl of Rochdale. But no sooner is her 
word passed than she bitterly repents of lier precipitancy. When she 
ieanis that adversity has overtaken Clifford, the generosity of her na- 
ture is beautifully betrayed ; and the scenes in which she thencefor- 
ward appears are wrought up to an intensity of interest. 

Such are some of the principal incidents, upon which the plot turns. 
It is not very luminously developed. There are crudities and obscuri- 
ties in the construction; of which, indeed, no one can be more aware 
than the author himself It does not clearly appear, for example, 
whether Clifford and Master Walter are not, after the third act, in col- 
lusion with each other ; and the precise position of Lord Rochdale ig 
not very intelligibly defined. An audience, however, will be general- 
ly too much interested in Julia to pay regard to these subordinate 
questions of the play. This charming creation presents throughout 
one of the mo»i; consummate feminine portraits ever depicted by any 
dramatist. 

Much cannot be said in praise of the underplot. Some of the cha- 
racteiis are quite unworthy of the good company, in which they find 
themselves. Modus is a conception of but little genuine humor ; and, 
little as that is, it is partially borrowed from Gradus in " Who's the 
Dupe ?" The scenes between the sheepish student of Ovid and hia 
cousin Helen, (why need she have been a cousin ?) always seemed to 
us forced and inharmonious. No young woman of any refinement, 
natural or acquired, could have played the wooer as she does; and no 
aian of sense, whether a recluse or a man of the world, could havB 
been entrapped by the exercise of such unfeminine arts as she stoops 
Ic employ. We always pity the actress, who is cast in the part of 
Uden. 

But, after enumerating all imaginable flaws and defects, there is a 
large balance of beauties in this play, sufficient to excite our gratitude 
and admiration, and to justify the unparalleled popularity which it 
has attained. It will be read acted and admired, while a vestige oi 
we English drama -^rr.-iinsj. 



author^s preface 

This comedy owes its existence to the failure of The Beggar' 
Daughter of Bethnal Greea," which was produced under the most un 
fevjurable circumstances, and in the unavoidable absence of the au 
Ihor. I did not like to be baffled, especially, as I thought, withou 
good reason ; and cheered by the generous, enthusiastic advocacy o 
the Atlas (a perfect stranger to me), I set to work upon " The Hunc'' 
back." 

My friend, Mr. Macready, who was very angiy with me for again 
attempting a walk in which I had failed, — and who came to Glasgow, 
solely, as T believe, for the object cf expostulating with me, — was the 
first to eicourage me to proceed. I had completed my first act. I 
read it to him, and he told me to go on. This I thought the happiest 
of omens, for many a proof had he given me of his admirable judgment 
in such things. This happened about two years ago. 

It was not, huwever, until the latter end of the summer of 1831, that 
[ had leisure to proceed with my work. I recommenced it in the 
pleasant walks about Birmingham, and completed it on the sands of 
^fewhaven — my roomy study ; whare, at the same time, I remodellt<] 
'Alfred." I brought both plays up to town v^ith me in April last. 

" The Hunchback'' was read to Mr. Lee, and instantly accepted by 
ihat gentleman, who, without hesitation, granted me terms even more 
advantageous than those which I required for it from Covent Garden 
and to whose polite and liberal deportment towards me, during hia 
brief, divided i-eign of management, I joyfully take this opportunity o 
bearing testimony. The play, however, was defective in the uudci 
plot, which was perfectly distinct from the main one. This error, Mr 
Macready pointed out to me, — as did subsequently Mr. Morton, in axi 
elaborate critique as full of kindness as of discrimination. My avoca 
lions, however, did not leave me at liberty to revise my work, til 
about two months ago, when I constructed my under plot anew ; and 
having done my best to obviate objections, presented " The Hunch 
hack" to Drury Lane, from which establishment I subsequently with 
drew it, because it waa uot treated with the attention which I ^hougk 
U uiented 



THE HUNCHBACK 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — A Tavern. On one side, Sir Thomas Clippord 
at a tabic with wine before him ; on the other. Master 
WiLFORD, Gaylove, Holdwell, uud Simpson, likewise 

talcing wine. 

Wilf. Your wine, Sirs ; your wine ; you do not justice 
to mine host of the Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves. 
[ swear the beverage is good ! It is as palatable poison 
as you will purchase within a mile round Ludgate ! Drink, 
gentlemen ; make free. You know I am a man of expec- 
tations ; and hold my money as light as the purse in which 
I carry it. 

Gay. We drink, Master Wilford ; not a man of us has 
been chased as yet. 

Wilf. But you fill not fairly, Sirs ! Look at ray mea- 
sure ! Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draught 1 
Fill, I pray you, else let us drink out of thimbles. This 
will never do for the friends of the nearest of kin to the 
wealthiest peer in Britain. 

Gay. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect 
of advancement which has so unexpectedly opened to you. 

Wilf. Unexpectedly indeed ! But yesterday arrived 
the news that the Earl's only son and heir had died; ani] 
to-day has the earl himself been seized with a mortal illness. 
His dissolution is looked for hourly : and I, his cousin in 
only the third degree, known to him but to be unnoticed 
by him — a decayed gentleman's son — glad of the title and 
revenues of a sciivener's clerk, — am the undoubted succea* 
sar to his estates and coronet. 



10 THE HUNCHBACK. 



[Act I 



Gay. Have you been sent for 1 

Wilf. No ; but I have certified to his agent, Master 
Walter, the Hunchback, my existence and peculiar propin- 
quity ; and momentarily expect him here. 

" Gay Lives there any one that may dispute your claim 
** — I mean vexatiously ? 

" Wilf. Not a man. Master Gaylove. I am the sole re- 
* maining branch of the family tree." 

Gay. Doubtless you look for much happiness from tnis 
change of fortune] 

^'Vilf. A world ! Three things have I an especial pas- 
sion for : the finest hound, the finest horse, and the finest 
wife in the kingdom, Master Gaylove. 

Gay. The finest wife ! 

Wilf. Yes, Sir; I marry. Once the Earldom comes 
:nto my line, I shall take measures to perpetuate its re- 
maining there. I marry, Sir ! I do not say that I shall 
love. My heart has changed mistresses too often to settle 
down in one sei-vitude now, Sir. But fill, I pray you, 
fiiends. This, if I mistake not, is the day whence I shall 
date my new fortunes ; " and, for that reason, hither have 
" I invited you, that having been so long my boon compa- 
** nions, you should be the first to congratulate me." 

Enter Waiter, l. 

Wait. You are wanted. Master Wilford. 
Wilf. By whom % 
Wait. One Master Walter. 

Wilf. His Lordship's agent ! News, Sirs ! Show him m. 

\Rises. Exit Waiter y l 
My heart's a prophet. Sirs. — The Earl is dead. 

Enter Master Walter, l. 

Well, Master Walter ; how accost you me % 

\All come forward^ r. 

Walt. As your impatience shovs me you would have 
My lord, the Earl of Rochdale ! [me ? 

Gay. Give you joy ! ___ 

Hold. All happiness, my lord ! 

Simp. .Long life and health unto your lordship ! 

" Gay. Come ! 
' We'll drink to his lordship's health ! 'Tis two o'clock 
• We'll e'en carouse till midnight ! Hea'di, my lord !" 



BcMVE I;] THE HUNCHBACK. 1 1 

Hold. My lord, much joy to you ! Huzza ! 

[All go to the table, Jill and drink 

" Si7)ip. Huzza i" 

Walt. Give something to the dead ! 

Gay. Give what % 

Walt. Respect! 
fie has made the living ! First to him that's gone, 
Say " Peace," — and then with decency to revels. 

Gay What means the knave by revels ] 

[Advances towards Waltef 

Walt. Knave ! 

Gay. Ay, Knave ! 

Walt. Go to ! Thou'rt flushed with wine. 

Gay. Thou sayest false ! 
Tho' didst thou need a proof thou speakest true, 
I'd give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here, 
And I see two ! 

Walt. Reflect'st thou on my shape *? 
Thou art a villaiji ' 

Gay. Ha ! 

Walt. A coward, too! [Walks f ram him, i* 

Draw ! [Drawiiig his sword. \ 

Gay. Only mark him, how he struts about ! 
How laughs his straight sword at his noble back. 

Walt. Does it 1 It cuffs thee for a liar, then I 

[Strikes him with his sword 

Gay. A blow ! 

Walt. Another, lest you doubt the first ! 

Gay. His blood on his own head ! I'm for you, Sir ! 

[Draw^ 

Clif. Hold, Sir ! This quarrel's mine ! 

[ Coming forward r. of Walter, and drawiiig 
Walt. No man shall fight for me, Sir ! 

Clif. By your leave ! — 
Your patience, pray ! My lord — for so I learn 
l^ehoves me to accost you — for your own sake 
Draw off your friend ! 

Walt. Not till we have a bout. Sir I 

" Clif. My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet— 
•^ 111 greet it those v/ho love you — greeting thus 
"■ The herald of it ! 

" Walt. Sir, what's that to you ? 

Let gc my sleeve I 



12 THE HUNCUBAOK. 

" Clif. My lord, if blood be shed 
" On the fair dawn of your prosperity, 
'* Look not to see the brightness of its day, 
" 'Twill be o'ercast throughout !" 

Gay. My lord, I'm struck ! 

Clif. You gave the first blow, and the hardest one i 
l,ook. Sir: if swords you needs must measure, I'm 
Vour mate, not he. 

Walt. I'm mate for any man. 

" Clif. Draw off your friend, my lord, for your owi 
sake!" 

Wilf. Come, Gaylove ! let us have another room. 

Ga7f. With all my heart, sitice 'tis your lordship's will 

Wilf. That's right ! Put up ! Come, fiiends ! 

[Exeunt Wilf or d and friends, r. 
Walt. I'll follow him ! 
Why do you hold mel 'Tis not courteous of you ! 
" Think'st thou I fear them 1 Fear ! 1 rate them but 
■' As dust ! dross ! offals ! Let me at them ! — Nay, 
** Call you this kind ] then kindness know I not;" 
Nor do I thank you for't ! Let go, I say ! 

Clif Nay, Master Walter, they're not worth your wrath 
Walt. How know you me for Master Walter 1 Ey 
My hunchback. Eh? — " my stilts of legs and arms, 
'* The fashion more of ape's, than man's ] Aha! 
•* So you have heard them, too — their savage gibes 
" As I pass on, — ' There goes my lord I' a.ha !" 
God made me, Sir, as well as them and you. 
Sdeath ! I demand of you, unhand me, sir. 

[Disengaging himself 

Clif There, Sir, you're free to follow them ! Go fcrtk 
And I'll go, too : so on your wilfulness 
Shall fall whate'er of evil may ensue. 
Is't fit to waste your choler on a burr ] 
" The nothings of the town ? whose sport it is 
" To break their villain jests on worthy men, 
^* The graver, still the fitter ! Fie, for shame !" 
Regard what such would say ] So would not I, 
No more than heed a cur. 

Walt. You're right, Sir ; right. 
For twenty crowns ! So there's my rapier up f 
Vou've done me a good turn against my will • 



icEFB 1 J THE HUNCHBACK. 13 

VVhich, Kne a wayward child, whose pet is off, 
That made him restive under wholesome check, 
[ now right humbly own, and thank you for. 
^ Cl?f. No thanks, good Master Walter, owe you me! 
I'm glad to know you. Sir. 
JVait. I pray you, now, 
flow did you learn my name 1 Guessed I not right 1 
.Vas't not my comely hunch that taught it you ? 
Clif. I own it. 

Walt. Right, I know it ; you tell truth. 
[ like you for't. 

Clif, But when I heard it said 
That Master Walter was a worthy man. 
Whose word would pass on 'change, soon as his Doi^d , 
A liberal man — for schemes of public good 
That sets down tens, where others units write ; 
A. charitable man — the good he does. 
That's told of, not the half — I never more 
Could see the hunch on Master Walter's bact . 
Walt. You would not flatter a poor citizei ? 
Clif. Indeed, 1 flatter not ! 
Walt. I like your face : 
A. frank and honest one ' Your frame's well knit. 
Proportioned, shaped ! 
C/if Good, Sir ! 
Walt. Your name is Cliflbrd— 
Sir Thomas Clifford. Humph ! You're not the fieir 
Direct, to the fair baronetcy ? He 
That was, was drowned abroad. Am I not right ? 
Your cousin, was't not 1 So succeeded you 
To rank and wealth, your birth ne'er promised you. 
Clif. T see you know my history. 
Walt. I do. ^ 

You're lucky who conjoin the benefits 
Of penury an I abundance; for I know 
Your father was a man of slender means. 
You do not blush, I see. That's right! Why shoul* 

you? 
What merit to be dropped on fortune's hill 1 
The honour is to mount it. You'd have done it; 
For, you were trained to knowledge, industry, 
Frugality and honesty, — the sinews 



14 THE HUNCHBACK |^j^^ j 

That surest hel]) the climber to the top, 
4nd keep him there. I have a clerk, Sir Thomas., 
Once served your father , there's the riddle for y/a. 
Humph ! I may thank you for my life to-day 

Clif. I pray you, say not so ! 
Walt. But 1 will say so ! 
Because I think so^ know so, feel so. Sir ! 

oar fortune, I have heard, 1 think, is ample ; 
:\nd doubtless you live up to't ] 

Chf. 'Twas ray rule. 
And is so still, to keep my outlay, Sir, 
A span within my means. 

" Walt. A prudent rule. 
" The turf is a seductive pastime ! 

*' Qlif. Yes. 

" Walt. You keep a racing stud % You bet 1 

" Clif. No, neither. 

• 'Twas still my father's precept — * Better owe 
' A yard of land to labour, than to chance 

* Be debtor for a rood !' 

Walt. " 'Twas a wise precept." 
Vou've a fair house — you'll get a mistress for it 1 

Clif. In time. 

Walt. In time ! 'Tis time thy choice were made. 
[s't not so yet 1 Or is thy lady-love. 
The newest still thou see'st '^ 

Clif. Nay, not so. 
['d rnaiTy, Master Walter, but old use — 
For, since the age of thirteen, I have lived 
In the world, — has made me jealous of the thing 
That flattered me with hope of profit. Bargains 
Another would snap up, might lie for me 
Till I had turned, and turned them ! Speculations, 
That promised twenty, thirty, forty, hfty, 
Ay, cent, per cent, returns, I would not launch in 
When others vvei'e afloat, and out at sea ! 
Whereby I made small gains, but missed greai ^osses f 
As ever then I looked before I leaped, 
So do I now. 

Wal. Thou'rt all the better for't ! 
Let's gee ! H=ind free — heart whole — well favoured — so) 
Rich, — titled ! Let that pass ! — kind, valiant, prudent — 



gtEWBlI., THE HUNCHBACK. 1 

Sir Thomas, I can help thee to a wife, 
Hast thou the luck to win her ! 

Clif. Master Walter ! 
c'ou jest ! 

Wal. I do not jest. — I like you ! mark— 
I like you, and I like not every one ! 
I say a wife, Sir, can I help you to, 
The pearly texture of whose dainty skin 
Alone were worth thy baronetcy ! Form 
And feature has she, wherein move and glow 
The charms, that in the marble cold and still 
Culled by the sculptor's jealous skill, and joined there, 
Inspire us ! Sir, a maid, before whose feet 
A duke — a duke might lay his coronet. 
To lift her to his state and partner her ! 
A fresh heart, too ! A young fresh heart. Sir, one 
That Cupid has not toyed with, and a warm one. 
Fresh, young, and warm ! mark that ! a mind to boot. 
Wit, Sir : sense, taste ; a garden strictly tended — 
Where naught but what is costly flourishes. 
A consort for a king. Sir ! Thou shalt see her. 

Clif. I thank you, Master Walter ! As you speak, 
Methinks I see me at the altar foot, 
" Her hand fast locked in mine — the ring put on." 
My wedding bell rings merry in my ear ; 
And round me throng glad tongues that give me joy 
To be the bridegroom of so fair a bride ! 

Wal. What! sparks so thick 1 We'll have a blaze aaon ! 

Eyitcr Servant, l. 

Se7'v. The chariot's at the doo". 

Wal. It waits in time ! 
Sir Thomas, it shall bear thee to the bower 
Where dwells this fair, for she's no city belle, 
But e'en a Sylvan Goddess. 

Clif. Have with you. 

Wal. You '11 bless the day you served the Hunchback 
Sir. [Exeunt., l. 

Scene II. — A Garden hefore a Country Houst 
Enter Juli.4 and Helen, r. u. e 

Hel. (r.) I like not, Juja, tl i.s, your country life. 
^'m weary O'^'t. 



16 HE HUNCHBACK. (AOPL 

Jul. ("i ; Indeed ] So am not I ! 
i know no other ; would no other know. 

Hel. Ycmj v/ould no other know ! Would you not know 
A.nother rt-rative ? — another friend — 
clnotlier h«)use — another anything, 
Because tlie ones you have already please you 1 
T hat*s poor content ! " Would you not be more rich. 
' More wise, more fairT' The song that last you lea^--^-^ 
Vou fancy well ; and therefore shall you learn 
No other song ? Your virginal, 'tis true, 
Hath a sweet tone ; but does it follow thence, 
You shall not have another virginal 1 
You. may, love, and a sweeter one ; and so 
A sweeter life may find, than this you lead ! 

Jul. I seek it not. Helen, I'm constancy ! 

Hel. So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen, 
An owl, a bat, — where they are wont to lodge 
That still sojourn, nor care to shift tlieir quarters. 
Thou'rt constancy ? I'm glad I know thy name ! 
The spider comes of the same family. 
That in his meshy fortress spends his life. 
Unless you pull it down, and scare him from it. 
" And so, thou'rt conslancy 1 Art proud of that 1 
" I'll warrant thee I'll match thee with a snail, 
" From year to year that never leaves his house ! 
'* Such constancy, forsooth ! — A constant grub 
" That houses ever in the self-same nut 
* Where he was born, 'till hunger drives him out, 
'Or plunder breaketh thro' his castle wall !" 
And so, in very deed, thou'rt constancy ! 

Jul. Helen, you know the adage of the tree ; — 
['ve ta'en the bend. This rural life of mine, 
Enjoined me by an unknown father's will, 
I've led from infancy. Debarred from hope 
Of change, I ne'er have sighed for change. The towu 
To me was like the moon, for any thought 
I e'er should visit it — nor was I schooled 
To think it half so fair ! 

lid. Not half so fair ! 
The town's the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night 
E'er since thy birth, not to have seen the town ! 
Their wonien there are queens, and kings their men; 
Their houses palaces ! f Ot/wct, i 



BcESE ll.j ''HE IJUNCIIEACK. 17 

Jul. And whai of that \ 
[lave your town palaces a hall like this 1 
Couches so fragrant 1 walls so high adorned ? 
Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen, 
Ap these fair vistas have ] Your kings and queens ! 
See me a May-day queen, and talk of them ! 

Hel. Extremes are ever neighbors. 'Tis a step 
From one to the other ! Were thy constancy 
A reasonable thing — a little less 
Of constancy — a woman's constancy — 
[ should not wonder wert thou ten years hence 
The maid I know thee now; but, as it is, 
The odds are ten to one, that this day year 
Will see our May-day queen a city one. 

Jul. Never ! I'm wedded to a country life . 
O, did you bear \vhat Master Walter says ! 
Nine times in ten, the town's a hollow thing. 
Where what tilings are, is naught to what they show } 
Where merit's name lauofhs merit's self to scorn! 
Where friendship and esteem, that ought to be 
The tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks 
And tongues alone. Where little virtue, with 
A costly keeper, passes for a heap ; 
A heap for none, that has a homely one ! 
Where fashion makes the law — your umpire which 
You bow to, whether it has brains or not. 
Wliere Folly taketh off his cap and bells, 
To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest ! 
Where, to pass current, you must seem the thing, 
The passive thing that others think, and not 
Your simple, honest, independent sglf ! [Crcw^e*, i 

Hcl. Ay : so says Master Walter. See I not 
What you can find in Master Walter, Julia, 
To be so fond of him ! 

Jul. He's fond of me. 
f've known him since I was a child. E'en then 
ihe week I thought a weary, heavy one, 
That brought not Master Walter. I had those 
About me then that made a fool of me. 
As children oft are fooled ; but more I loved 
Grood Master Walter's lesson, than the play 
With which they'd surfeit me. As I grew up^ 



18 THE HUNCHBACK. f AcT » 

More frequenw Master Walter came, and more 

I ioved to see him. I had tutors then, 

Men of great skill and learning — but not one 

That taught like Master Walter. What they'd show me, 

And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw, — 

A V. rd from Master Walter made as clear 

As day-light ! When my schooling days were o'er — 

Thrit's now good three years past — three years — I vow 

I'm twenty, Helen ! — well, as I was saying, 

Wiien I had done with school, and all were gone, 

Still Master Walter came ; and still he comes, 

Summer or winter — fi-ost or rain. I've seen 

The snovv' upon a level with the hedge, 

Yet there was Master Walter ! 

Hel. Who comes here 1 [Crosses > 

A carriage, and a gay one, — who alights ? 
Pshaw ! Only Master Walter ! What see you, 
Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow, 
A frown was like to spoil 1 — A gentleman ! 
One of our town kings ! Mark — how say you now 1 
Would'st be a town queen, Julia ? Which of us, 
I wonder, comes he for 1 

Jul. For neither of us ; 
He's Master Walter's clerk, most like. 

Bel. Most like ! 
Mark him as he comes up the avenue ; 
So looks a clerk ! A clerk has such a gait ! 
So does a clerk dress, Julia, — mind his hose — 
They're very like a clerk's ! a diamond loop 
And button, note you, for his clerkship's hat- 
O, certai ly a clerk ! " A velvet cloak, 
"Jerkin of silk, and doublet of the same, — " 
For all the world a clerk ! See, Julia, see. 
How Master Walter bows, and yields him place, 
That he may first go in, — a very clerk ! 
I'll learn of thee, love, when I'd know a clerk! 

Jul. I wonder who he is. - 

Hcl. Would'st like to know ] 
Would' st, for a fancy, ride to town with him 1 
I prophesy he comes to take thee thither. 

Jul. He ne'er takes me to town. No, Helen, nf\ 
To to\Vn who will — a country life for me ' 

H^l We'll see- 



il.j THE HrJNCHBACK. 19 

Enter Fathom, l. 

Fath. You're wanted, Madam. 

Jul. [E7?ibarras^ed.] Which of us 1 

Fath. You, madam. ' [ ErO€S wp^ L. 

Hd. Julia ! what's the matter % Nay 
Mount not the rose so soon. He must not see it 
A month hence. 'Tis love's flower, which, once she wears, 
The maid is all his own. 

Jul. Go to ! 

Hcl. Be sure \Crosses^'L, 

He comes to woo thee ! He will bear thee hence ; 
He'll make thee change the country for the town. 

Jul. I'm c(mstancy. . Name he the town to me, 
['11 tell him what I think on't ! \CrosstSy i 

Uel. Then you guess 
He comes a wooing ] 

Jul. I guess naught. 

mi. You do! 
At your grave words, your lips, more honest, smile, 
And show them to be traitors. Hie to him. 

Jul. Hie thee to soberness. [Exit, h 

Hcl. Ay, will I, when 
Thy bridemaid, I sliall hie to church with thee. 
Well, Fathom, who is come] Ji Comes dovm,h 

Fath. I know not. 

Hd. What! 
Did'st thou not hear his name ] 

Fath. I did. 

Hd. Whatis't? 

Fath, I noted not. 

Hd. What hast thou ears for, then ? 

Fath. What good were it for me to mind his name t 
[ do but what I must do. To do that 
;« labor quite enough I 

Wal. [ Without, L.] What, Fathom! 

Fath. Here. 

Wal. [Entering, \..] Here, sirrah I Wherefore did'st 
not come to me ] 

Fath. You did not bi I me come. 

Wal. I called thee. 

Fath. Yes, 



20 THE HUNCHBACK. 



[Act I 



And 1 said, " Here ;" and waited then to know 
Your worship's will with me. 

Wed. We go to town — 
Thy mistress, thou, a.id all the house. 

Path. Well, sir 1 

WaL (c.) Mak'st thou not ready, then, to go to town 1 

Fath. You didn't bid me to make ready, Sir. 

WalT Hence, knave, despatch ! \^Exit Fathom, 

Hd. Go we to town % 

WaL We do ; 
*Tis now her father's will she sees the town. 

HeL Vm glad on't. Goes she to her father ] 

Wal, No; 
With the consent of thine, she for a. term 
Shares roof with thee. 

IJel. I'm very glad on't. 

WaL What! 
You Hke her, then 1 I thought you would. 'Tis tini« 
She sees the town. 

HeL It has been time for that, 
These six years. 

WaL By thy wisdom's count. No doubt 
V^ou've told her what a precious place it is. 

HeL I have. 

WaL I even guessed as much. For that 
} told thee of her ; brought thee here to see her; 
And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her ; 
That its fair face, from thy too fair report. 
Might strike a novice less, — so less deceive her. • 
I did not put thee under check. 

HeL 'Twas right — 
Ellse I had broken loose and run the wilder ! 
So knows she not her father yet that's strange, 
[ prithee how does mine 1 

WaL Well— very well. 
News for thee. 

HeL What? 

WaL Thy cousin is in town. 

HeL My cousin Modus 1 

WaL Much do I suspect 
rhat cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood, 

HeL Pshaw ! Wed me to a musty library ! 



SCWEIII.] THE HUNCHBACK. 21 

Love him who noiiiing loves but Greek and Latin 1 
But, Master Walter, you forget the main 
Surpassing point of all. Who's come with you t 

Wal. Ay, that's the question ! 

Hel. Is he soldier or 
Civilian 1 lord or gentleman 1 He's rich, 
If that's his chariot ! Where is his estate 1 
What brings it in 1 Six thousand pounds a year 1 
Twelve thousand, may be ? Is he bachelor, 
Or husband *? Bachelor, I'm sure he is ! 
Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter 1 
Nay, prithee, answer me ! 

tVal. Who says thy sex 
Are curious ] That they're patient, I'll be sworn ; 
And reasonable — very reasonable — 
To look for twenty answers in a breath ! 
Come, thou shalt be enlightened — but propound 
Thy questions one by one ! Thou'rt far too apt 
A scholar ! My ability t'~ teach 
Will ne'er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn. 

[Exeunt (c 

Scene III. — An Apartment in tJie House, 
Enter Jvi.i a, JbUowed hy Clifford, r. 

Jul. No more ! I pray you, Sir, no more ! 

Glif. I love you. 

Jw/. You mock me, Sir! 

Clif. Then is there no such thing 
On earth as reverence. Honour filial, the fear 
Of kings, the awe of supreme Heaven itself, 
Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing. 
I love you ! 

Jul. You have known me scarce a minute. 

Clif. Say but a moment, still I say I love you. 
Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth ; 
Springs by the calendar ; must wait for sun — 
For rain ; matures by parts, — must take its time 
To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns 
A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed ! 
You look for it, and see it not ; and lo ! 
E'en while you look, the peerless flower is up, 
Conguramate in the birth ! 



IS - THE HUNCHBACK. [AcT i 

V. '• Is't fear I feel ? 
'* \Vliy also should beat my heart 1 It can't be fear ! 
'• Something I needs must say." You're frc/ra the tovru 
How comes it, Sir, you seek a country wife ] 
" ivlethinks 'twill tax his wit to answer that." 

GUf. In joining contrasts lieth love's delight. 
Complexion, strature, nature mateth it, 
Not with their kinds, but with their opposite3. 
Hence hands of snow in palms of russet lie; 
The form of Hercules affects the sylph's ; 
And breasts that case the lion's fear-proof heart, 
I^'ind their loved lodge in arms where tremors dwell' 
" Haply for this, on Afric's swaithy neck, 
" Hath Europe's priceless pearl been seen to hang, 
" That makes the orient poor ! So with degrees — 
" Rank passes by the cii'clet-graced brow, 
*• Upon the forehead bare of notelessness, 
" To print the nuptial kiss ! As with degrees, 
" So is't with habits ;" therefore I, indeed, 
A G^allant of the town, the town forsake, 
To win a country bride. 

Jul. " His prompt reply, 
*'My backward challenge shames ! Must I frive o'a I 
'* I'll try nis wit again." Wiio mariies me. 
Must lead a country life. 

CUf. The life I love ! 
But fools would fly from it ; for Oh ! 'tis sweet ! 
Tt finds the heart out, be there one to find ; 
And corners in't where stores of pleasures lodge, 
We never dreamed were there ! It is to dwell 
'Mid smiles that are not neighbors to deceit ; 
Music, whose melody is of the heart, 
'' And gifts that are not made for inteiest, — 
* Abundantly bestowed, by nature's cheek, 
•* And voice, and hand !" It is to live on life, 
And husband it ! It is to constant scan 
The handy work of heaven ! It is to con 
Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power ! It is 
To nearer see our God ! 

Jul. How like he talks 
To Master Walter ! ^* Shall 1 give it o'er % 
" Not yet" Thou would'st not live one hiM a yeai { 



ftv « III:] THE HUNCHBACK. 33 

A quarter might's/ thou for the novel t} 

Of fields and trees ; but then it needs must bs 

In summer time, when thev go dressed. 

aif. -Not it!" 
In any time — say winter ! Fiekls and tree* 
Have charms for me in very winter time. 

Jul. But snow may clothe them then 

C/if. I like them full 
As well in snow ! 

JuL You do 1 

aif. I do ! 

Jul. But night 
Will hide both snow and them ; and that sets in 
Ere afternoon is out. A heavy thing, 
A. country fireside in a winter's night, 
To one bred in the town, — " where winter's said, 
' For sun of gayety and sportiveness, 
' To beggar shining summer." 

aif. i should like 
A. country winter's night especially ! 

Jul You'd sleep bv the fire. 

Clif. Not I ; I'd talk to thee. 

Ji/i. You'd tire uf that ! 

Clif. I'd read to thee. 

Jul. And that ! 

Oil/. I'd talk to thee again. 

Jul. And sooner tire 
Than first you did, and fall asleep at last. 
" You'd never do to lead a country life." 

Cli^f. " You deal too hardly with me !" Matchless ifiaici, 
" As loved instructor brightens dullest wit," 
Fear not to undertake the charge of me ! \KneeIt 

A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays 
His title and his fortune at your feet. 

" Jul. His title and his fortune !" 

Enter Master Walter and Helen, r. — Jull\, disconcat' 
edt retires icith the latter, l. — Clifford rises. 
Wal. So, Sir Thomas ! 
Aha ! you husband time ! well, was I right 1 
Is't not the jewel that I told you 'twas ? 
Would'st thou not give thine eyes to wear it ? Eh ? 



24 THE HUNXHBACK. ^Al - 

It has an owner, tho , — nay, start not, — one 

That may be brought to part with't, and with whom 

I'll stand thy friend — I will — I say, I will ! 

A strange man, sir, and unaccountable ; 

But I can humour him — will humour him 

For thy sake, good Sir Thomas, for I like thee. 

Well, is't a bargain 1 Come, thy hand upon it. 

A word or two with thee. 

[ They retire, r. Julia and Helen come Jbrwr^d, I 

Jul. (l.) Go up to town ! 

Hcl. (r.) Have I not said it ten times o'er to theel 
But if thou lik'st it not, protest against it. 

Jul. Not if 'tis Master Walter's will. 

Hcl. What then ] 
Thou would'st not break thy heart for Master Walter? 

Jul. That follows not ! 

Hcl. What follows not 1 

Jul. That I 
Should break my heart that I go up to town. 

Hcl. Indeed ! Oh, that's anotlier matter. Well. 
I'd e'en advise thee, then, to do his will ; 
And ever after, when I prophesy. 
Believe me, Julia ! 

[ Thcij retire. Master Walter comes forward 

Knter Fathom, l., crosses to Walter. 

Fath. So please you, sir, a letter, — -a post haste letter i 
The bearer on horseback, the horse in a foam — smoking 
like a boiler at the heat — be sure a post-haste letter ! 
Wal. Look to the horse and rider. 

[Exit FafJioin, l. Opens the letter and readi 
* What's this ? A testament addressed to me, 
** Found in his Lordship's escrutoire, and thence 
"Directed to be taken by no hand 
*^Eut mine. My presence instantly required." 

[Sir Thomas, Julia, and Helen come fo^tearei 
Come, my mistresses, 

You dine in town to-day. [Crosses, l.J Your father's wtP 
It is, my Julia, that you see the world ; 
And thou shalt see it in its best attire.-— 
Its gayest looks — its richest finery 
It shall put on for thee that thou may'st judge 



CKSl.] THE HU.\CHBACK. 

Betwixt il, and the rural life you've livert 

liusiness of moment I'm but just advised o^, 

roucbing the will of my late noble master, 

The Earl of Rochdale, recently deceased, 

vJ.^mmaiids me for a time to leave thee there. 

Sii Thomas hand her to the chariot. [»SVr Thames crosses 

to her cmd hands Julia out, l..- thcij pass Walter, wiw 

then leads Helen out,\..] Nay, 
i ifW ihee true. We go indeed to'^town ! [Exeunt. 

END OF ACT I. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. — An Apartment in Master HEARTWEr.i.'s House 
Enter Thomas and Fathom, r. 
Thorn. WeW, Fatliom, is thy mistress up ? 

Fath. She is, Master Thomas, and breakfasted. 

Thoni. She stands it well ! 'Twas five, you say, whei 
she came home ; and wants it now three qiiyrleri' of an 
hour often ! Wait till her stock (if country health is out. 

Fath. 'Twill come to that, Master Thomas, before she 
lives another month in town ! Three, four, five, six o'clock 
are now the hours she keeps. 'Twas otherwise with her 
xn the country. There my mistress used to rise what time 
she now lies down. 

Tho?n. Why, yes ; she's changed since she came hither 

l<ath. Changed, do you sav. Master Thomas ? Chancred 
forsooth ! I know not the thing in which she is not chano-. 
od, savmg that she is still a woman. I tell thee there is n^'o 
sfdspmgpace with her moods. In the countrv, she had 
r,9iie of them. When I brought what she asked tor, it was 
' tha.nk you, Fathom," and no more to do; but now, noth- 
mg contents her. Hark ye ! were you a gentleman, Mas- 
ier Ihomas,— for then you know you would be a different 
.<ind of man,— how many times would you have your coat 
altered ? ^ ^ 

Thorn. Why, Master Fathom, fts njany times as it woufd 
take to make it fit me. 



26 THE HUNCHBACK. 



^ [Act li 



Fath. Good ! But supposing it fitted thee at first ] , 

Thorn. Then would I have it altered not at all. 

Fath. Good ! Thou would'st be a reasonable ger^tleman. 
Thou would'st have a conscience. Now hark to a tale 
about my lady's last gown. How many times, think you, 
took I it back to the sempstress ] 

Thorn. Thrice, may be. 

Fath. Thrice, may be ! Twenty times, may be ; and 
aot a tun: too many for the truth on't. Twenty times, on 
the oath of the sempstress. Now mark me — can you 
count 1 

Thorn. After a fashion. 

Fath. You have much to be thankful for, Master Thom- 
as ; you London serving-men know a world of things, which 
we in the country never dream of. Now mark : — four 
times took I it back for the flounce ; twice for the sleeves ; 
thrice for the tucker. How many times in all is that ] 

Thorn. Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom. 

Fath. What a master of figures you are ! Eight times 
— now recollect that! And then found she fault with the 
trimmings. Now, tell me how many times took I bach 
'ihe gown for the trimmings % 

Thorn. Eight times more, perhaps ! 

Fath. Ten times to a certainty. How many times make* 
that ] 

Thorn. Eighteen, Master Fa'hon-* by the rule of addi 
lion. 

Fath. And how many times move will n.ake twenty ? 

Thorn. Twnce. by th.e same rule. 

Fath. Thou hast worked with thy pencil and slate, Mas 
ter Thomas ! Well, ten times, as T said, took [ ba<'k th* 
gown for the trimmings : and was she conrent after all ^ 
I v/arrant you, no, or my ears did not pay for it. She wish- 
ed, she said, that the slattern sempstress had not tourbe** 
Sbs gown ; for naught had she done, but botched it. Now 
what, think you, had the sempstress done to the gown] 

Thorn. To surmise that, I must be learned in the semp 
stress's art. 

Fath. The sempstress's art ! Thou has hit it ! Oh, the 
fwect sempstress ! The excellent sempstress ! Mistress 
of her scissors and needles, which are pointless and edge- 
less to her art ! The sempstress had done nothing to the 



8c EKE 11.] 



THF, HUNCHBACK. 97 



gown, yet raves and storms my mistress at er for having 
botched it in tlie making and mending ; and orders her 
straight to make another one, wliich home the sempstress 
brings on Tuesday last. 

T/wm. And found thy fair mistress as many faults wirli 
hat? 

Fatk. 'Not one ! She finds it a veiy pattern of a gown! 
A. well sitting flounce ! The sleeves a fit — the tucker a 
'it — the trimmings her fancy to aT — ha! ha! ha I and 
she praised the sempstress — ha ! ha ! ha ! and she smiles 
I rne, and 1 smile — ha ! ha ! ha ! and the sempstress smiles 
— ha ! ha ! ha ! Now why did the sempstress smile 1 

Thorn. That she had succeeded so well in her art. 

Fath. Thou hast hit it again. The jade must have been 
oorn a sempstress. If ever 1 marry, she shall work for 
my wife. The gown was the same gown, and there was 
my mistress's twentieth mood ! 

Thorn. What, think you, will Master Walter say when 
re comes back 1 I fear he'll hardly know his country maid 
again. Has. she yet fixed her wedding day 1 

Falh. She has. Master Thomas, 1 coaxed it from her 
tiaid. She marries Monday week. 

Thorn. Comes not Master Walter back to-day 1 

Fatk. Your master expects him. \B ell ringing, l.] Per- 
«aps that's he. I prithee go and open the door ; do, Mas- 
er Thomas, do ; for proves it my master, he'll surely ques 
tion me. 

Thorn. And what should I do ? 

Fath. Answer him, Master Thomas, and make him none 
the wiser. He'll go mad, when he learns how my lady 
flaunts it ! Go ! open the door, I prithee. Fifty things, 
Master Thomas, know you, for one thing that I know ; 
you can turn and twist a matter into any other kind of mat- 
ter, and' then twist and turn it back again, if needs be ; so 
much you servants of the town beat us of ihe country. Mas- 
ter Thomas. Open the door, now ; do, Master I'homas, 
do ! \Exe.unt, i,. 

Scene D. — A Garden ivlth two Arhors, r. and L. 

^<;it€r Master Heartwell, r., and Master Walter, Li, 

meeting. 

leart. Good Master Walter, welcome back again ! 



28 THE HUNCHBACK. - [Acrll 

Wal I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwe'l. 

Heart. How, 
I pray you, sped the weighty bus'ness which 
So sudden called you hence ] 

IVal. Weighty, indeed ! 
What thou would'st ne'er expect — wilt scarce believe? 
Long hidden wrong, wondrously come to light, 
And great right done ! But more of this, anon. 
Now of my ward discourse ! Likes she the town 1 
How does she ] Is she well ] Can 'at match me h^r 
Amongst your city maids 1 

Heart. Nor court ones neither ! 
She far outstrips them all ! 

Wal. I knew she would. 
What else could follow in a maid so bred ? 
A pure mind. Master Heartwell ! — not a taint 
From intercourse with the distempered town ; 
With which all contact was walled out ; until, 
Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it. 
And sleep amidst infection. [O «ft B 

Heart. Master Walter ! 

Wal. Wein 

Heart. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier 
To plough a sea in safety '? — he that's went 
To sail in it, — or he that by the chart 
Is master of its soundings, bearings, — knows 
Its headlands, havens, currents, — where 'tis bold. 
And where behoves to keep a good look out ? — 
The one will swim where sinks the other one ! 

Wal. The drift of this] 

Heart. Do you not guess it 1 

Wal. Humph ! 

Heart. If you would train a maM to live in tows 
Breed her not in the country ! 

Wal. Say you so % 
And stands she not the test ? 

Heart. As snow stands fire ! 
Your country maid has melted all away, 
And plays the city lady to the height : — 
Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners, 
Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers ; 
Her noons, to calls; her afternoons, to dressing; 



SCESE II.] 



THE HUNCHBACK. $9 



Evenings, to plays or cards ; and nights to rjuts. 
Balls, masquerades ! Sleep only ends the riot, 
Which waking still begins ! 

JVal. I'm all amaze ! 
How bears Sir Thomas this 1 

Heart. Why, patiently ; 
Though, one can see, with pain. 

Wal. She loves him 1 Ha I 
That shrug is doubt ! She'd ne'er consent tu wed bi»7i. 
Unless she loved him ! — never ! Her young fancy, 
The pleasures of the town — new things — have caught. 
Anon their hold will slacken : she'll become 
Her former self again : to its old train 
Of sober feelings will her heart return ; 
And then she'll give it wholly to the man, 
Her virgin wishes chose ! [Crosses^ * 

Heart. Here comes Sir Tliomas ; 
And with him Master Modus. 

Wal. Let them pass : 
I would not see him till I speak with her. 

[ They retire into the arbor, L 

Enter Clifford and Modus, r, 

Oif. A dreadful question is it, when we love, 
To ask if love's returned ! I did believe 
Fair Julia's heart was mine — 1 doubt it now. 
But once last night she danced with me, her hand 
To this gallant and that engaged, as soon 
As asked for ! " Maid that loved would scarce do this ' 
" Nor visit we together as we used, 
*• When first she came to town." Slie loves me loss 
Than once she did — or loves me not at all. [Crosses, a 

Mod. I'm little skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world ; 
What mean you now to do 1 

Cljf. Remonstrate v/ith her ! 
** Come to an understanding, and, at once — " 
If she repents her promise to be mine. 
Absolve her from it — and say farewell to her. [Cros^eSy L 

Mod. Lo, then, your opportunity — she comes, — 
My cousin with her — her will T engage, 
Whilst you converse together. 

Clif. Nay, not yet ! 



30 THE HUNCHBACK. 



[A I 



My heait tums coward at the sight of her. 
Slay till it finds new courage ! Let them pass. 

[ They retire up, c 

Enter Julia and Helen, r. 

Hel. So, Monday week will say good morn to thee 
Al maid, and bid good night a sober wife ! 

Jul. That Monday week, I trust, will never come 
rhat brags to make a sober wife of me ! 

Hel. How changed you are, my Julia ! 

Jul. Change makes change. 

Hel. Why wedd'st thou, then % 

Jul. Because I promised him. 

Hel. Thou lov'st him ? 

Jul Do I % 

Hel. He's a man to love : 
A. right well-favoured man ! 

Jul. Your point's well favoured. 
Where did you purchase it 1 '* In Gracechurch street 1" 

Hel. Pshaw ! never mind my point, but talk of him. 

Jul. I'd rather talk with thee about the lace. 
Where bought you it % In Gracechurch street, CheapsvJo 
Whitechapel, Little Britain? Can't you say 
Where 'twas you bought the lace 1 

Hel. In Cheapside, then. 
And now, then, to Sir Thomas ! He is just 
The height I like a man. 

Jul. Thy feather's just 
Tlie height I like a feather ! Mine's too long ! 
What shall I grive thee in exchanore for it 1 

Hel. What shall I give thee for a minute's talk 
^bout Sir Thomas 1 

Jul. Why, thy feather. 

Hel. Take it ! 

** GUf. [Aside to Modus.] What! likes she not to speai 
of me!" 

HeL And now 
Uet's talk about Sir Thomas — '* much, I'm sure, 
* He loves you. 

" Jul. Much, I'm sure, he has a right ! 
" Those know 1 who would give their eyes to be 
" Sir Thomas, for my sake ! 



ScWKlI.] THE HUNCHBACK. 81 

" Hel. Sucn, too, know I. 
* Bat mong them, none that can corapaie with him, 
' Not one so graceful. 

" Jul. What a graceful set 
' Your feather has ! 

" Hel. Nay, give it back to me 
■ Unless you pay me for't. 
- J^^/. What vvas't to get ] r,^ rry. „ 

" Hel. A minute's talk with thee about bir i homas. 
Jul. Talk of his title and his fortune, then. 
" Glif. [Aside.] Indeed ! I would not listen, yet I must I 
'« Jul:' An ample fortune, Helen ! I shall be . 
A happy wife ! What routs, what balls, what masques, 
What gala days ! . 

" Clif. [Aside.] For these she marries me ! 
' She'll talk of these ! 

" JuV Think not, when I am wed, 
I'll keep the house as owlet does her tower. 
Alone, — when every other bird's on wing. 
I'll use my palfrey, Helen ; and my coach ; 
My barge, too, for excursions on the Thames ;^^ 
' What°drives to Barnet, Hackney, Islington !" 
What rides to Epphig, Hounslow, and Blackheath ! 
What sails to Greenwich, Woolwich, Fulham, Kew! 
['11 set a pattern to your lady wives ! 

Glif. [Aside, R. C.J Ay, lady 1 Trust me, not at my ex 

pense. 
Jul. And what a wardrobe ! I'll have change of suits 
For every day in the year ! and sets for days ! 
My morning dress, my noon dress, dinner dress. 
And evenin'g dress ! * Then will I shew you lace 
A foot deep, can I purchase it; if not, 
I'll specially bespeak it. Diamonds, too ! 
Not buckles, rings, and ear-rings, only— but 
Whole necklaces and stomachers of gems \ 
ril shine ! be sure I will. 

" Clif. [Aside.] Then shine away ; 
•' Who covets thee may wear thee : I'm n^t he! 
«« Jul. And then my title ! Soon as I put oi- 
" The ring, I'm Lady Clifford. So I take ^ 
'♦ Precedence of plain mistress, were she e'en 
^- *" Tbe n^hest heiress in the land ! At tow;i 



^i THE HUNCHBACK. 'ACT II 

' Oi ■•ountry ball, you'll see me take the leaJ, 

" While wives that carry on their backs the wealth 

" To dower a princess, shall give place to me ; — 

" Will I not profit, think you, by my right ] 

" Be sure I will ! Marriage shall prove to me 

" A never-ending pageant. Every day 

** Shall show how I am spoused !" I will be known 

For Lady Clifford all the city through, 

A.nd fifty miles tlie country round about. 

Wife of Sir Thomas CHfford, baronet — 

N'ot peiishable knight ; who, when he makes 

Al lady of me, doubtless must expect 

To see me play the part of one. [Crosses, ft 

Clif [Co?ne6- Jbrward, R. c] Most true. 
But not the part which you design to play. 
' Jul. A list'ner, sir ! 

Cllf, By chance, and not intent. 
Vour speech was forced upon mine ear, that ne'er 
More thankless duty to my heart discharged ! 
Would for that heart it ne'er had known the sense 
Which tells it 'tis a bankrupt there, where most 
It coveted to be rich, and thought it was so ! 
Oh, Julia ! is it you 1 Could I have set 
Ajcoronet upon that stately brow. 
Where partial nature hath already bound 
A brighter circlet — radiant beauty's own — 
I had been proud to see thee proud of it, — 
So for the donor thou hadst ta'en the gift, 
Not for the gift ta'en him. Could I have poured 
The wealth of richest Croesus in thy lap. 
[ had been blest to see thee scatter it, 
So I were still thy riches paramount ! 

Jul. Know you me. Sir 1 

Clif. I do ! On Monday week, 
We were to wed ; and are, so you're content 
The day that weds, wives you to be widowed. Take 
The privilege of my wife ; be Lady Clifford ! 
Outshine thy title in the wearing on't ! 
My coffers, lands, are all at thy command i 
Wear all ! but, for myself, she wears not me, 
" Althougi. the coveted of every eye," 
Who would not wear me foi myself alone ^Crosses, i 



a«..IIi.J ^"^ HUNCHBACK. 33 

Jul. And do yoa carry it so proudly, Sir 1 

C///: Proudly, but still more sorrowfully, l^ady I 

I'll lead thee to the church on Monday week. 

Till then, farewell ! and then.-farewell forever^ ^. ^^^ 

Oh Julia, I have ventured for thy love, 
As the bold merchant, who, for only hope 
Of some rich gain, all former gams will risk ! 
Before 1 asked a portion of tby heart, 
I periled all my own ; and now, all s lost ! 
^ [£a;z^, R. ilfwZw* Jollows htm 

Jul. Helen ! 

Hel. What ails you, sweet ] . -n i i 

Jul. 1 cannot breathe— quick, loose my girdle, ^^^^ .^^^ 

Master Walter, u., «r.rZ Master Heartwell, l., came 

forward. 

Wal. Good Master Heartwell, help to take her in, 
Whilst I make after him !— and look to her ! 
Unlucky chance that took me out of town ! 

[Exit Walttr, r^.—Heartwdihear^ uji „u,..u,, L. Helen 
following. 

Scene III.— The Street. 
Enter Clifford, r., and Stephen, l., vieeting, 

Ste. Letters, Sir Thomas. 
Clif Take them home again ; 
r shall not read tbem now 

Ste. Your pardon, Sir, 
But here is one directed straii.gely. 

Clif How 1 ^ , . 

Ste. ' To Master Clifford, gentleman • now styled 
Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet/ 

Clij: Indeed ! 
Whence comes that letter ? 

Ste. From abroad. 

Clif. Which is it 1 

Ste. So please you, this, Sir Thomas. 

Clif. Give it me. \ Crosses, l. reading lettet 

Ste That letter biings not news, to wish him joy upot> 



4 THE HUXCHBACR. ;A«t U 

r hfi was iisturbed before, which I gue>55et< by hii look* 
B iras, he is not more at ease now. His han(^ to bis head ! 
. most unwelcome letter ! If it brings him news of dis- 
ster, fortune does not give him his deserts : for never 
-aited servant upon a kinder master. 

Clif. Stephen! 

Ste. Sir Thomas ! 

Clif. From my door remove 
'he plate that bears my name. 

Si€. The plate, Sir Thomas 1 

Clif. The plate. Collect my servants and instruct thens 
lU to make out their claims unto the end 
M* their respective terras, and give them in 
7o my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow, 
rhat I keep house no more. " As you go home, 
' Call at my coachmaker's, and bid him stop 
' The carriage I bespoke. The one I have, 
' Send \vith my horses to the mart whereat 
' Such things are sold by auction — they're for sale. 
' Pack up my wardrobe — have my trunks conveyed 
' To the Inn in the next street" — and when that's done, 
xo to mv t^ ^ ,3men, and collect their bills, 
^nd oruig tnem to me at the Inn. 

Ste. The Inn ! 

Clif. Yes ; I go home no more. Whv, what's the mat 
ter ? "^ 

Wliat has fallen out to make your eyes fill up 1 
i'ou'll get another place. I'll certify 
Vou're honest and industrious, and all 
That a servant ought to be. 

Ste. I see, Sir Thomas, 
Some great misfortune has befallen you. 

Clif. Xo! 
I've health; I've strength; my reason, Stephen, and 
\ heart that's clear in truth, with ti-ust i.i God. 
So great disaster can befall the man, 
'-VHio's still possessed of these ! Good fellow, leave ina 
- What you would learn, and have a ri^ht to know, 
^ I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, nence ' * 
Mischance has fallen on me — but what of that ? 
Mischance has fallen on many a better man. 
* I pri'Jiee loave me. I g^ow sadder while 



gccss III.] T5^ HIIXCHBACX. 35 

" I see the eye with which yoa yiew my griefl 
** 'Sdeath, they will oat I I would have been a mar, 
'* Had you been less a kind and gentle one." 
N^ow, as you love me, leave me, 

Ste. Never master 
So well deserved the love of him that served him. 

[Exit SUpkeM^ %. 

Cfif. Misfortune likedi company : it seldom 
^.^isiis its friends alone. Ha, Slaster Walter, 
And ruffled, too ! I'm m no mood for him. 

Enter Master Walter, l. 

Wal. So, Sir I — Sir Thomas Clifford \ — what with speed 
And choler — I do ijasp for want of breath ! 

Clif. Wen, Master Walter \ 

Wed. You're a rash young man. Sir ! 
Strong-headed and wrong-headed — and I fear. Sir ! 
Not over delicate in that fine sense 
Which men of-honour pride themselves npon. Sir ! 

aif. Well, Master Walter ! 

Wal. A young woman's heart. Sir, 
[3 not a stone to carve a posy on ! 

\v"hich knows not what is writ on't — which yoa may buy 
Exchange, or sell. Sir — keep or give away. Sir ; 
It is a richer, yet a poorer thing ! 
Priceless to him that owns and prizes it ; 
Worthless when owned, not prized ; which makes the mmn 
That covets it, obtains it, and di5< ards it, — 
A fool, if not a villain. Sir ! 

Clif. Well, Sir ! 

Wal. You never loved my war J, Sir ! 

Clif. The bright Heavens 
Bear witness that I did ! 

Wal. The bright Heavens, Sir, 
Bear not false witness. That you loved her not. 
Is clear, — for had you loved her, you'd have plucked 
Yonr heart firom out your breast, 'ere casi her from yott 

heart I 
Old as I am, I know what passion is. 
" It is the summers heat. Sir, which in vain 
'' We look for frost in ! Ice^ like you. Sir. knows 
' But little if such hcc-L \" We're wronged. Sir, wrongMi! 



36 T^E HUNCHBACK. A«T« 

* You wear a sword, and so do I ! 

" aif. WeJ, Sir ! 

" Wal. You know the use, Sir, of a sword ? 

CUf. "I do. 
" To whip a knave, Sir, or an honest man — 
" A wise man or a fool — atone for wrong, 
"Or double the amount on't." Master Walter,* 
Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think 
Oti my side lies the grievance. " I would not say so, 
*'' Did I not think so." As for love — look, Sir, 
That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn 
To clasp no second one. As for amends, Sir, 
You're free to get them from a man in whom 
'You've been forestalled by fortune, " in the spite 
" Which she has vented on him, if you still 
' Esteem him worth your anger," Please you read 
That letter. Now, Sir, judge if life is dear. 
To one so much a loser. 

Wal. What, all gone ! 
Thy cousin living they reported dead ! 

CUf. Title and land, Sir, unto which, add love ; 
All gone, save life — and honour! — which, ere I'll lose, 
I'll let the other go ! 

Wal. We're public here, 
And may be interrupted. Let us seek 
Some spot of privacy. Your letter, Sir! \G-ivcsii hack 
Tho' fortune slights you, I'll not slight you 1 Not 
Your title or the lack of it I heed. 
Whether upon the score of love or hate, 
With you, and you alone, I settle. Sir. 
We've gone too far. 'Twere folly now to part 
Without a reckoning. 

GUf. Just as you please. 

Wal. You've done a noble lady wrong. 

CUf. That lady 
Has done me wrong. 

Wal. Go to ! Thou art a boy 
Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not 
A woman's heart. Thou know'st not what it is I 



* Clifford's reply commences here in the representation— hi'* cu» b» 
«gi Wrong'id, Sir, wronu^d ! 



I'} 



THE HUNCHBACK. 37 



Ai^^hich I will prove to thee, soon as we find 
Convenient place. Come on, Sir-! you shall get 
A lesson that shall serve you for the rest 
0' your life. I'll make you own her, Sir, a piece 
Of Nature's handiwork, as costly, free 
From bias, flaw , and fair as ever yet 
Hor cunning hand turned out. Come on, Sir !— c )rae 

[Exeunt, 

END OF ACT II. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — A Drawing Room. 
Enter Lord Tinsel and the Earl op Rochdale. 

Tin. Refuse a lord ! A saucy lady, this ! 
I scarce can credit it. 

Rack. She'll change her mind. 
My agent, Master Walter, is her guardian. 

Till. H«ow can you keep that Hunchback in his office ^ 
He mocks you. 

Rorli. He is useful. Never heed him. 
My offer now do I present through him. 
He has the title-deods of my estates. 
She'll listen to their wooing. I must have her. 
Not that I love her, but that all allow 
She's fairest of the fair. 

Tin. Distiniruished well : 
Twere most unseemly for a lord to love ! 
(iCave that to commoners. 'Tis vulgar. She's 
Betrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford ? 

Roch. Yes. 

Tin. That a commoner should thwart a Lord ! 
Yet not a commoner. A Baronet 
[s Hsh and flesh. Nine parts plebeian, and 
Patrician in the tenth. Sir Thomas Clifford ! 
A man, they say, of brains. I abhor brains 
As 1 do tools ! They're things mechanical. 
So for are we above our forefathers :— 



38 THE HUNCHBACK. fAcT II) 

They to their brains did owe their titles as 

Do lawyers, doctors. • We to nothing owe them, 

Which makes us far the nobler. 

Roch. Is it so 1 

Tin. Believe me. You shall profit by my traiiiii. g; 
You grow a Lord apace. I saw you meet 
A Levy of your former friends, who fain 
Had shaken hands with you. You gave them fingers ! 
You're now another man. Your house is changed, — 
Your table changed — your retinue — your horse — 
Where once you rode a hack, you now back blood ;— • 
Befits it then you also change your friends ! 

Enter Williams, l. 

Wil. A gentleman would see vour lordship. 

Tin. Sir? 
What's that? [Crosses to WilUami 

Wil. A gentleman would see his lordship. 

Tin. How know you, Sir, his lordship is at home ] 
Is he at home because he goes not out ] 
He's not at home, though there you see him, Sir, 
Unless he certify that he's at home ! 
Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then 
Your lord will know if he's at home or not. 

[Exit Williams, l 
Your man was porter to some merchant's door, 
Who never taught him better breeding than 
To speak the vulgar truth ! Well, Sir] 

Williams having re-entered, l. 

Wil. His name, 
So please your lordship, Markham. 

Tin. Do you know 
The thing % 

Roch. Right well ! I'faith, a hearty fellow, 
Son to a worthy tradesman, " who would do 
* Great things with little means ; so entered him 
•* In the Temple. A gooc^ fellow, on my life, 
" Naught smacking of his stock !" 

Tin. You've said enough ! 
His lordship's not at home. \Exit Willimns, :..\ " We (^n 
net go 



ScbhkLJ '^'he hunchback. 39 

« By hearts, but orders !" Had he family — 
Blood — tho' tt Diily were a drop — his heart 
Would pass for scmething ; lacking such deser*;. 
Were it ten times the heart it is, 'tis naught ! 

Enter Williams, l. 

Wd. One Master Jones hath asked to see your lordsa.t 
Tin. And what was your reply to Master Jones 1 
Wil. I knew not if his lordship was at home. 
Tin. You'41 do. Who's Master Jones % 
RocJi. A curate's son. 

Tin. A curate's ] Better be a yeoman's son ! 
•• Were it the rector's son, he might be known, 
'* Because the rector is a rising man, 
••' And may become a bishop. He goes light. 
" The curate ever hath a loaded back. 
" He may be called the yeoman of the church 
" That sweating does his work, and drudges on 
" While lives tlie hopeful rector at his ease." 
How made you his accjuaintance, pray 1 

Rock. We read 
Latin and Greek together. 
Tin. Dropping them — 
As, now that you're a lord, of course you've done — 
Drop him. — You'll say his lordships not at home. 
Wil. So please your lordship, 1 forgot to say, 
One Richard Cricket likewise is below. 

Tin. Who 1 Richard Cricket ! You must see him, 
^ Rochdale ! 
A noble little fellow ! A great man. Sir ! 
Not knowing whom, you would be nobody ' 
I won five thousand pounds by him ! 

Roch. Who is he % 
\ never heard of him. 

Tin. What ! never heard 
Of Richard Cricket ! never heard of him ! 
Why, he's the jockey of Newmarket ; you 
May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes. 
I bade him call upon you. You must see him. 
His lordship is at home to Richard Cricket. 

Rocli. Bid him wait in the ante-room. [ WiUiams goes » 
T^n. The ante-room ? 



iO THE HUNCHBACfi 



[Act III 



The best room in your house ! You do not t?,iow 

The use of Richard Cricket ! Show him, Sir, " 

Into the drawing-room. [Exit Williams, l.] Your lordship 

needs 
Must keep a racing stud, and you'll do well 
To make a friend of Richard Cricket. ** Well, Sir, 
•* What's that ] 

" Enter Williams. 

•• Wil. So please your lordship, a petition. 

" Tin. Had'st not a service 'mongst tlie Hottentots 
" Ere thou cam'st hither, friend '^ Present thy lord 
" W^ith a petition ! At mechanics' doors, 
" At tradesmens', shopkeepers', and merchants' only, 
" Have such things leave to knock ! Make thy lord's gate 
" A wicket to a workhouse ; Let us see it — 
" Subscriptions to a book of poetry! 
" Who heads the list '? CorneUus' Tense, A.M. 
" Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works 
" Problemss in mathematics, can chop logic, 
" And is a conjurer in philosophy, 
'* Both natural and moral. — Pshaw ! a man 
" Whom nobody, that is, anybody, knows. 
" Who, think you, follows him ] Why, an M.D. 
" An F.R.S., and F.A.S., and then 
"A D.D., Doctor of Divinity, 
" Ushering in an L.L.D., wliich means 
" Doctor of Laws — their harmony, no doubt, 
" The difference of their trades ! There's nothing here 
" But languages, and sciences, and arts, 
** Not an iota of nobility ! 

'* We cannot give our names. Take back the pape* 
" And tell the bearer there's no answer for him • — 
" That is the lordly way of saying ' No.' 
•* But, talking of subscriptions, here is one 
'* To which your lordship may affix your name. 

" Rock. Pray, who's the object ] 

" Tin. A most worthy man ! 
'A man of singular deserts ; a man, 
* In serving whom, your lordship will serve mep— ' 
^ Signer Cantata. 

" Rock. He's a friend of yours ] 



ScwnlU "^^^ HUNCHBACK ^1 

•* Tin. Oh, n- , I know him not ! I've not that pleaaaro. 

* But Lady Dangle knows him ; she's his friend. 

* He will obhge us with a set of concerts, 

' Six concerts°to the set.— The set, three guineas. 

* Your lordship will subscribe 1 

" RocL Oh, by all means ! 

'♦ Tin. How many sets of tickets ] Two at least. 
«« You'll like to take a friend ^ I'll set you down 
^ Six guineas to Signor Cantata's concerts." 
And now, my lord, we'll to him,— then we'll walk. 
Rock. Nay, I would wait the lady's answer. 
Tin. Wait! 
Take an excursion to the country ; let 
Her answer wait for you. 
JRoch. Indeed ! 
Ti7i. Indeed. 
Befits a lord naught like indifference. 
Say an estat« should fall to you, you'd take it, 
A.S it concerned more a stander-by 
Than you. As you're a lord, be sure you evei 
Of that make little, other men make much of; 
Nor do the thing they do, but right contrary. 
Where the distinction else, 'twixt them and you 1 

[Ea:e:mt, i. 

Scene 11.—^?^ Aparmcnt in Master HeartivdVs House. 
Table and two chairs, placed a little out of the centre to- 
wards L. 

Master Walter discovered, seated l. of table, looking 
through title-deeds and papers. 
Wal. So falls out every thing as I would have it. 
Exact in place and time. This lord's advances 
Receives she,— as, I augur, in the spleen 
Of wounded pride she will,— my course is clear. 
She comes— ail's well— the tempest rages still, 

Julia enters, l., atid paces the room in a state of high ex- 
citement. 

'Jul. What have my eyes to do with water 1 Fire 
Becomes them beti er \Oross€S^ a 

Wal True 



42 THE HUNCHBACK. [AcY 111 

Jul. Yet, must i weep 
To be so monitor'd, and by a man ! 
A man that was my slave ! whom I have seen 
Kneel at my feet from morn till noon, content 
With leave to only gaze upon my face, [Crowcx, L 

** And tell me what he read there, — till the page 
*' [ knew by heart, I 'gan to doubt I knew, 
" Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue !" 
And he to lesson me ! Let him come here 
On Monday week ! He ne'er leads me to cmrch ! 
" ] would not profit by his rank or wealth, 
" Tho' kings might call him cousin, for their sake !" 
I'll show him I have pride! [Crosses, n. 

Wal. You're very right ! 

Jul. He would have had to-day our wedding day ! 
1 fixed a month from this. He prayed and prayed :— 
I dropped a week. He prayed and prayed the more . — 
[ dropped a. second one. Still more he prayed ! 
And 1 took off another week, — and now 

have his leave to wed or not t(^ wed ! 
He'll see that I have piide! 

Wal. And so he ought. 

Jul. Oh ! for some way to bring him to my feet ! 
But he should lie there ! Why, 'twill go abroad, 
That he has cast me off. That there should live 
The man could say so ! Or that I should live 
To be the leavings of a man ! \Crosse8f B 

Wal. Thy case 
I own a hard one. 

Jul. Hard ! 'Twill drive me mad ! 
His wealth and title ! 1 refused a lord — 
[ did ! that privily implored my hand — 
And never cared to tell him on't ! So much 
T hate him now, that lord should not in vain 
Implore my hand again ! 

Wal. You'd give it him \ [ Up from chair 

Jul. I would. 

Wal. You'd wed that lord 1 [Advances, \ 

Jul. (r.) That lord I'd wed ; — or any other lord, — 
Only to show him, I could wed above him I 

Wal. Give me your hand and word to that. 

Jid. There ! fake 
My hand an 1 word ! 



THE HUNCHBACK ** 

geE«£ 11] 

Wal. That lord hath offered you 
His hand again. 

Wal^YoMev knows it : he apFCte« ofMrn 
There are the title-deeds of the estates. [Points to .ab.e 
Sent for my jealous scrutiny. All «°""'l.- ^ 
No flaw, or speck, that e'en the lynx-eyed law 
Uself co'uld find. A lord of many lands 
In Berkshire half a county ; and il'^ s^"'« 
In Wiltshire, and in Lancashire ! Across 
The Irish Sea, a principality ! 

vviiLgivc TT^,.„»Q tlie uroffer ofhis hand. 

A countess] Heie s the pione [Shoivs her a lethr 

Write thou content, and wear a coronet! 
Jul [Eagerly.] Give me the paper. 

A flourish of 
The pen, and you're a countess. 

M, .. My poor bram ^^^ ^.^ ^^^ 

« Whirls round and round 1 i wouiu 
Were he more lowly at my feet to sue 
Than e'er he did 1 
Wal Wed whom 1 
Jul Sir Thomas Clifford. 

If^^^::J^tk weahh are roots to doubt; 
. ind wl^le they lasted still the weed wou^^^^^^^^^ 
- Howe'er you plucked it. No ! 1 hat s o ei 

N^'as rxevev lady wronged so foul as 1 ! [ ^ ^^** 

Wal Thou'rt to be pitied. 
/«,/. [^?w^cr^^.] Pitied! Not so bad 

As that- , , ^ 

Wal Indeed thou art, \o love the man 

That spurns thee ! ij fi„/i 

J«/. Love him ! Love . If hate could Bnd 
A word more harsh than «s own name, I i take it ^ 
To soeak the love I bear him ! I 



*4 THE HUNCHBACK AcT I» 

Wal. Write thy own name, 
And show how near akin thy hate's to hate 
Jul. I Writes.] 'Tis done ! 
Wal. 'Tis well ! I'll come to you anon. 

r»7 i J7 I T» P'''f? the paper hastily, and exit, a 

Jul. \Alone.\ I'm glad 'tis done ! I'm very ^laA 'tii 

done ! ^ -, » 

^ve done the thing I should. From my disgrace 
Ihis lord shall lift me 'bove the reach o*f scorn— 
'1 hat idly wags its tongue, where wealth and state 
iMeed on/y beckon to have crowds to laud I" 
Then how the tables change ! The hand he spurned 
tiis betters take ! Let me remember that I 

I'll grace niy rank ! I will ! I'll carry it 

As I were born to it ! ' I warrant none 

Shall say it fits me not :— but one and all 

Confess T wear it bravely, as I ought ! 

And he shall hear it ! ay ! and he°shall see it ! 

i will roll by him in an equipage 

Would mortgage his estate— but he shall own 

His slight of me was my advancement ! Love me ? 

He never loved me ! if he had, he ne'er 

Had given me up ! Love's not a spider's web 

^ut fit to mesh a fly— that you can break 

By only blowing on't ! He never loved me ! 

He knows not what love is — or, if he does, 

He has not been o'er chary of his peace ' 

And that he'll find when I'm another's wife, 

Lost !— lost to him for ever ! Tears a^ain '' 

Why should I weep for him 1 Who make 'their woa« 
Deserve them ! What have I to do with tears ? 

Enter Helen, l. 

Hel. News ! Julia, news ! 

Jul. Wliat ! Is't about Sir Thomas ? 

Hel. Sir Thomas, say you 1 He's no more Sir Thop^* \ 
Ihat cousm lives, as heir to whom, his wealtl 
And title came to him. 

Jul. Was he not dead ? 

Hel. No more than I am dead. 

Hel. What say you, Julia? 



8CKHEII THE HUNCHBACK 45 

Jul. Nothing! 

Hel I could kiss 
That cousin ! coulcVnt you, Julia 1 

Jul, Wherefore % 

Hel. Why, 
For coming back to life again, as 'twere 
Upon his cousin to re\*enge you 

Jul. Helen ! 

Hel. Indeed, 'tis true. With what a sorry grace 
The gentleman will bear himself without 
His title ! Master Clifford ! Have you not 
Some token to return him ? Some love-letter ] 
Some brooch ? Some pin % Some anything 1 I'll De 
Your messenger, for nothing but the pleasure 
Of calling him plain 'Master Clifford.' 

Jul. Helen ! 

Hel. Or has he aught of thine 1 Write to him, Julia, 
Demandiriij it ! Do, Julia, if vou love me : 
And I'll direct it in a schoolboy's hand, 
A.S round as I can write, ' To Master Clifford.* 

Jul. Helen! 

Hel. I'll think of fifty thousand ways 
To mortify him ! I've a twentieth cousin, 
V care-for-naught at mischief Him I'll set 
With twenty other madcaps like himself, 
To walk the streets the traitor most frequents 
A.nd give him salutation as he passes — 
How do you, Master Cliff()rd !' 

Jul. [Highly incensed.^ Helen ! 

Hel. Bless me ! 

Jul. I hate you, Helen ! [Oroita to r, 

Enter Modus, l. 

Modus. Joy for you, fair lady ! 
Dur baronet is now plain gentleman, 
A.nd hardly that — not master of the means 
To bear himself as such ! The kinsman lives 
Whose onlj rumored death gave wealth to him, 
A.nd title. A hard creditor he proves. 
Who keeps strict reckoning — will have interest, 
As well as principal. A ruined man 
(s now Sir Thomas Clifford. 



THE HUNCHBACK. ,. „ 

Jiel. 1 m g;ad on't. 

Modus And so am I. A scurvy trick it was 
He served you, Madam. Use a I Jdy so I 
I ^-^-ly bore w,th him. J „ever li4d him. 
H/tw?,rtTtIe:''- ^^<''— ouldlthink 
Modii.y. No, nor acted it, 

io eniertam h.s friends, 'tis broadly said 

A hundred pounds in the vpir " wl 
In the appoin'tments of a ma' ^frank^ "" """' ''""^^ 
Possessn,g wealth like his. " His houses, hacks < 

A gloom! The sports that men of quality 
Andsp.nt countenance, he kept aloof from^, 
__ ^.om scruple of economy, not taste — 
As racing and the like." I„ brief, he lacked 

S rrbtdinl^t'n:;' "'"> "-^^^ '>■■- "-Snote 

of%,';:hai'ha; irar^i™:.""^"-' -^^ ^ -- 

J«/i. Silence, Sir ! ° 
For shame ! 

Bel. Why, Julia! 

JuL Speak not to me ! Poor ' 
Most poor ! I tell you, Sir, he was the making 
Of fifty gentlemen-each one of whom ^ 

Were more than peer for thee ! His title Sir r^ 
Lent h™ no grace he did not pay k back ,^^^ f^^^^*"^ ° 

lo blazon or to blur it ' r??./- ' 

Modus. [Crosses to Helen.] I wLf Jom' "" "^ ""^^^ '" * 
■fly aIh''""'^' him-I know not wherefore. 

[Modm and Helen go up, c.-Julia come, doum > 



SciKSlIJ 



THE HUNCHBACK. 47 



Enter Master Walter, icith parchmtnfs, l. 

Wal. Joy, my Julia ! [ Crosses to her 

rmpatient love has foresight ! Lo you here, 
The marriage deeds filled up, except a blank 
To write your jointure ! What you will, my girl ! 
Is this a lover ] L ook ! Three thousand pounds 
Per annum for your private charges ! Ha ! 
" Tliere's pin money ! Is this a lover 1 Mark 
** What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed 
" For your revenue ; and so set apart, 
'• That finger cannot touclt them, save thine own." 
Is this a lover? What good fortune's thine ! 
Thou dost not speak ; but, 'tis the way with joy ! 
With richest heart, it has the poorest tongue ! 

yModus comes dozen r. of Julia — Helen remains ?./?, o 

Modus. What great go~od fortune's this you speak cf, Sirl 

Wal. A coronet. Master Modus! You behold 
The wife elect, Sir, of no less a man, • 

Than the new Earl of Rochdale — heir of him 
That's recently deceased. 

" Hcl. My dearest Julia, 
" Much joy to you ! 

" Modus. All good attend you. Madam !" 

Wal. This letter brings excuses from his lordship, 
Whose absenc© it accounts for. He repairs 
To his estate in Lancashire, and thither 
We follow. 

Jul. When, Sir % 

Wal. Now. This very hour ! 
Jul. This very hour ! Oh, cruel, fatal haste ! 

Wal. Oh, cruel, fatal haste ! What meanest rf.ou ? 
Have I done v/rong to do thy bidding, then ? 
I've done no more. Thou wast an off-cast bride, 
And would'st be an affianced one — thou art so ! 
Thou'dst have the slight that marked thee out for sccri? 
Converted to a means of gracing thee — 
It is so ! " If our wishes come too soon, 
'• What can vnake sure of welcome 1 In my zeal 
" To win thee thine, thou know'st, at any time 
" I'd play the steed, whose will to serve his lord, 
•* With his last breath gives his last bound for him ! 



48 THE HUNUHBACK. 



[Act III 



"Since only noon have I despatclied what well 
" riad kept a brace of clerks, and more, on foot,— 
" And then, perhaps, had been to do again ! — 
" Not finished, sure, complete — the compact firm, 
" As fate itself had sealed it ! 

" Jul. Give you thanks ! 
' Tho' 'twere my death ! mv death ! 

" Wal. Thy death ! Indeed, 
" For happiness like this, one well might die !" 
fake thy lord's letter! 

E?itcr Thomas ickk a letter, l. 

.Veil 1. 
Tho. This letter, Sii", 

The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford — 
Or him that was Sir Thomas — gave to me 
For Mistress Julia. 

Jul. Give it me ! \Throw'mg cavaij the one she holds 

Wal. [Snatching it.] For what ? [Exit Thomas, l. 

Would'st read it 1 He's a bankrupt ! stripped of title, 
House, chattels, lands and all ! A naked bankrupt, 
With neither purse nor trust ! Would'st read his letter 1 
A beggar ! Yea, a beggar ! fasts, unless 
He dines on alms ! How durst he Bend thee a letter ? 
"A fellow cut on this hand, and on that, 
*' Bows, and is cut again, and bows again ! 
** Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one — 
**' And that given grudgingly !" To send you a letter ! 
I burst with choler ! Thus 1 treat his letter ! 

[Tears and throivs it on the ground. 
So ! I was wrong to let him ruffle me ; 
He is not worth the spending anger on ! 
I prithee. Master Modus, use despatch, 
And presently make ready for our ride. 
You, Helen, to my Julia look — a change 
Of ilresses will suffice. She must have new ones, 
Matches for her new state ! Haste, friends. [Exeunt M(y 

das and Helen, r.] My Julia ! 
Why stand you poring there upon the ground? 
Tittie flies. Your lise astounds you \ Never heed — 
f*'.uM fcluy my lady countess like a queen ! [Exeunt, l 

END OP ACT III. 



l.i 



THE HUNCHBACK. 4f 



AC T I V. 
Scene 1, — A Roo??i in the Karl of Rochdah*i 

Ente?' Hei.E-V, c. d, 

ITcI. I'm weary wandering from room to room ; 
A castle after all is but a house — 
The dullest one when lacking company 1 
Were 1 at home I could be company 
Unto myself. " I see not INI aster Walter. 
" He's ever with his ward. I see not her. 
" By IMaster Walter will she bide, alone. 
*■ My rather stops in town. I can't see him. 
" My cousin makes his books his company." 
I'll go to bed and sleep. No — I'll stay up 
And plague my cousin into making love ! 
For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect. 
How dull he is that hath not sense to see 
What lies before him, and he'd like to find ! 
I'll change my treatment of him — cross him, where 
Before I used to humour him.. He comes, 
Poring upon a book. 

Enter Modus, l. 

What's that you read 1 

Modus. Latin, sweet cousin. 

Hel. 'Tis a naughty tongue 
I fear, and teaches men to lie. 

Modus. To lie ! 

Hel. You study it. You call your cousin sweet, 
And treat her as you would a crab. " As sour 
" 'Twould seem you think her, so you covet her ! 
" Why, how the monster stares, and looks about!" 
You construe Latin, and can't construe that ] 

Modus. I never studied women. 

Hel. No ; nor men. 
Else would you better know their ways ; nor read 
In presence of a lady. [Strikes the hook f rim hia hnitd 

Modus. Right, you say, 
And well you served me, cousin, so to strike 
The volume from my hand, I own my fault. 



■ 



60 THE HUNCHBACK. i %gs ll» 

So please you, — may I pick it up again I ^ 

rii put it in my pocket ! 

Jlel. Pick it up. 
He fears me as I were his grandmother! 
What is the book 1 

Modus. 'Tis Ovid's Art of Love. 

Hel. That Ovid was a fool ! 

.Modus. In what 1 

Hel. In that : 
To call that thing an art, which art is none. 

Modus. And is not love an art 1 

Hd. Are you a fool, 
As well as Ovid 1 Love an art ! No art 
But taketh time and pains to learn. Love coraee 
With neither. Is't to lioard such grain as that, 
You went to College % Better stay at home, 
And study homely English. 

Modus. Nay, you kti!)vv not 
The argument. 

Hel I don't] I know k better 
Than tiver Ovid did ! *' The face, — the form, — 
* The heart, — the mind we fancy, cousin ; that'* 
" The argument ! Why, cousin, you know nothiiig/ 
Suppose a lady wore in love with thee, 
Could'st thou, by Ovid, cousin, find it out 1 — 
Could'st find it out, was't tliou in love thyself? 
Could Ovid, cousin, teach thue to make love t 
I could, that never read him. Vou begin 
With melancholy; then to sadness ; then 
To sickness ; then to dying — but not die ! 
She would not let thee, were she of my mind ; 
She'd take compassion on thee. Then f)t hope; 
From hope to confidence ; from confidence 
To boldness ; — then you'd speak ; at first entreat ; 
Then urge ; then flout ; then argue ; then enforce ; 
Make prisoner of her hand ; besiege her waist ; 
Threaten her lips with storming ; keep thy word 
And carry her ! My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid ! [Crosse*, I 
Why, cousin, are you frightened, that you stand 
As you were stricken dumb 1 The case is clear 
You are no soldier. You'll ne'er win a batthe. 
You care too much for blows ! 



g^^gg I i thl: hunchback, 51 

Modus You wrong me iTiere. 
At Schooj 1 was the champion of my form. 
And since I went to College — 

IleL That for College ! [Crosses, ii., 8fjillij>s with herjitc 

Modus. Nay, hear me ! [g^^'-S' 

IieL Well 1 What, since you v/ent to College 1 
' You knnw what men are set down for who boast 
■' Of their own bravery. Go on, brave coushj !" 
What, since you went to College 1 Was there not 
.One Quentin Halworth there 1 You know there was. 
And that he was your master ! 

Modus. He my master ! 
Thrice was he worsted by me. 

IIcl. Still was he 
Your master. 

Modus. He allowed 1 had the best ! 
Allowed it, mark me ! Nor to me alono, 
But twenty 1 could name. 

Hcl. And mastered you 
At last ! Confess it, cousin, 'tis the truth. 
A proccor's daughter you did both aflect — 
Look fit me and deny it ! Of the twain 
She more affected you; — I've caught you now, 
•• Bold cousin ! Mark you ! Opportunity" 
An opportunity she gave you, Sir, — 
Deny it if you can ! — but though to others, 
When you discoursed of her you were a flame, 
To her you were a wick that would not light, 
Though held in the very fire ! And so he won her-^ 
Won her, because he wooed her like a man, 
For all your cuflfings. cuffing you again 
With most usurious interest. Now, Sir, 
Protest that you are valiant ! 

Modus. Cousin Helen ! 

Hel. Well, Sir? 
. Modus. The tale is all a forgery ! 

Ucl. A forgery ! 

Modus, From favst to last : ne'er spoke I 
To a p lector's daughter whil^ I v/as at College. 

Hcl. It wag a scrivener's, the'n — or somebody's. 
But what concerns it whose ] Enough, you loved lieSt 
And, shame upon you, let another take her ! 



b2 THE HUNCHBACK. 



Acvl? 



ModKs. Cousin, I tell you, if you'll only heai me, 
I loved no woman while I was at College-- 
Save one, and her I fancied ere 1 went there. 

Hel. Indeed ! Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing. 
" Comes he not on ! Oh, what a stock's the manj" 
Well, cousin 1 

Modus. Well 1 What more would'st have me say 1 
T think I've said enough. 

Hd. And so think I. 
1 did but jest with you. You are not angry ? 
Shake hands ! Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so ? 

Modus. [Letting he?- go.] I swear I squeezed you not ! 

Hel. You did not 1 

Modus. No, 
I'll die if I did ! 

Hel. Why, then you did not, cousin; 
So let's shake hands again — [He takes her hand as before \ 

Oh, go, and now 
R.ead Ovid ! Cousin, will you tell me one thing : 
Wore lovers ruffs in Master Ovid's time ? 
Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on : — 
And that you have to learn. Hole! up your head ! 
Why, cousin, how you blush. Plague on the ruff! 
r cannot give't a set. You're blushing still ! 
* Why do you blush, dear cousin ? So, 'twill beat me \ 
''I'll give it wp. 

** Modus. Nay, prithee don't — try on ! 

** Hel. And if I do, I fear you'll think me bold. 

*' Modus. For what 1 

" Hel. To trust my face so near to thine. 

" Modus. I know not what you mean 

" Hel. I'm glad you don't !" 
Cousin, I own right well behaved you are. 
Most man^ellously v/ell behaved ! They've bred 
You well at College. With another man 
My lips would be in danger ! Hang the ruff! 

Modus. Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin 

Hel. Dear fool ! [Throws the ruff on the grmnd 

I swear the ruff is good for r^^st 
Ab little as its master ! There ! — 'Tis spoiled — 
You'll have to get another. Hie for it, 
And wear it ii the fashion of a wisp. 



BVEITE II.] THE HUNCHBACK. 53 

Ere I adjast it for thee ! Farewell, cousin \ 

You've need to study Ovid's Art of Love. \ExU, r. 

Modus. Went she in anger? I will follow her, — 
No, I will not ! Hoigho ! X love my cousin ! 
Oh, would that she loved me ! Why did she taunt me 
With backwardness in lovo 1 What could she mean 1 
Sees she I love her, and so laughs at me, 
Because I lack the front to woo her? Nay, 
I'll woo her, then ! Her lips shall be in danger, 
When next she trusts them near me ! Looked she at me 
To-day, as never did she look before ! 
" A bold heart, Master Modus ! 'Tis a saying, 
" A faint one never won fair lady yet. 
" I'll woo my cousin, come what will on't ! Yes !" 

[Begins to 7-ead, pauses, and thrusts book into his bosom. 
Hang Ovid's Art of Love ! I'll v/oo my cousin ! \Exit, r 

Scene II. — The Banqueting Room in the Earl of Rochdale* s 
Mansion. 

Enter ^ASTY^VL Walter and Julia, l. u. e. He walks 
across to a chair, brings it fonvard and sits, u. c, she 



Wal. This is the banqueting-room. Thou see'st as fat 
It leaves the last behind, as that excels 
The former ones. All is proportion here 
And harmony ! Observe ! The massy pillars 
May well look proud to bear the lofty dome. 
" You mark those full-length portraits ? They're the heaa\, 
" The stately heads, of his ancestral line. 
** Here o'er the feast they aptly still preside ! 
"Mark those medallions ! Stand they forth or not 
" In bold and fair relief?" Is not this brave 1 

Jul. [Abstractedly.] It is. 

Wal. It shoulu be so. To cheer the blood 
That flows in noble veins, is made the feast 
That gladdens here ! " You see this drapery 1 
• 'Tis richest velvet ! Fringe and tassels, gold! 
'♦ Is not this costly 1 

*' Jul. Yes, 

" Wal. And chaste, the while % 
«' Both chaste and costly % 



64 THE HUNCHBACK. [Acfl? 

"J«i. Yes." 

Wal. [Gets up and crosses to i,., points off, l. for mirror. { 
Come hither! There's a mirror for yoa. See I 
Oae sheet from floor to ceiling ! Look into it. 
Salute its mistress ! Dost not know her ? 

Jul. [Sighing deeply.] Yes ! 

" Wal. And sigh est thou to know her ? Wait untj» 
** To-morrow, when the banquet shall be spread 
*■ In the fair hall ; the guests, already bid, 
** Around it ; here, her lord ; and there, herselt ; 
*' Presiding o'er the cheer that hails him bridegroom 
" And her the happy bride ! Dost hear me ? 

^^ Jul. [Sighing still more deeply.] Yes." 

Wal. These are the day-rooms only, we have seen. 
For public and domestic uses kept. 
I'll show you now the lodging rooms. [Goes, then turm 

and observes Julia stancling perfectly abstracted 
You're tired. 

liet it be till after dinner, then. Yet one 
"d like thee much to see — the bridal chamber. 

[Julia starts, crosses her hands upon her breast, a?id looks 
upivards. 
I see you're tired ; yet is it worth the viewing, 
If only for the tapestry which shows 
The needle like the pencil glow with life. [She sits on tht 

chair Master Walter has risen from, r. c. He L. 
The story's of a page who loved the dame 
He served — a princess ! — " Love's a heedless ♦^hing! 
" That never takes account of obstacles ; 
•' Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas, 
" That part it from its wish. So proved the page, 
" Who from a state so lowly looked so high, — 
" But love's a greater lackwit still than this. 
** Say it aspires — that's gain ! Love stoops — that's loss ! 
** You know what comes." The princess loved the pagei. 
Shall I go on, or here leave off"? 

Jul. Go on. 

Wal. Each side of the chambei shows a diiferenl stage 
Of this fond youth and fonder lady's love.* 

* la representation the passages fohowing this are curtailed- —and 
Um scene runs as follows: — Master Walter continues — 



hCESH! II.| THE H'JNCHbACk SB 

" First- — no, it is not that. 

" Jul. Oh, recollect ! 

" Wal. And yet it is ! 

" Jul. N^ doubt it is. What is't 1 

" Wal. He holds to her a salver, with a cup : 
'* His cheek more mantling with his passion, than 
''The cup with the ruby wine. She heeds him not, 
" For too great heed of him; — but seems to hold 
'' Debate betwixt her passion and her pride, 
" That's like to lose the day. You read it in 
'* Her vacant eye, knit brow, and parted lips, 

* Which speak a heart too busy all within 

' To note what's done without. Like you the tale % 
** Jul. I list to every word. 
" Wal. The next side paints 

* The page upon his knee. He has told his tale ; 

' And found that, when he lost his heart, he played 

* No losing game ; but won a richer one ! 

" There may you read in him, how love would seem 
" Most humble when most bold, — you question which 
'*x\ppears to kiss her hand — his breath or lips ! 

* In her you read how wholly lost is she 

* Who trusts her heart to love. Shall I give o'er 1 
" Jul. Nay, tell it to the end. Is't melancholy % 
" Wal. To answer that would mar the story. 
''Jul. Right. 

" Wal. The third side now we come to. 
" Jul. What shows that ] 

" Wal. The page and princess still. But stands her 
sire 

• Between them. Stern he grasps his daughter's arm, 

■' Whose eyes like fountains play ; while through her lean 



Wal. The first sid* paints their passion in the dawn — 
111 the next side 'tis shining open day — 
I.J the third there's clouding, — I but touch on .these 
T ; make a long tale brief, and bring thee to 
Th 3 latt s'de. 

Jul. What shows that ? 

Wal. The fate of love 
That will not be advised. — The scene s a dungeon , 
Jt's tenant is the page — he lies in fetters. 

Jul. Hard! 
Hard on the steel, the hands that put tbeia on ! 



66 THE HUNCHB^.CK. TAcT I^ 

" JBer passion shines, as, through the fountain drops, 
* The sun ! His minions crowd around the page ! 
^ They drag him to a dungeon. 

" Jul. Hapless youth ! 

" Wal. Hapless, indeed, that's twice a captive ! heart 
" And body both in bonds. But that's the chain, 
*' Which balance cannot weigh, rule measure, touch 
" Define the texture of, or eye detect, 
" That's forged by the subtle craft of love ! 
" No need to tell you that he wears it. Such 
" The cunning of the hand that plied the loom, 
" You've but to mark the straining of his eye 
" To feel the coil yourself! 

" Jul. I feel't without ! 
-** You've finished with the third side ; now the fourth! 

*' Wal. It brings us to a dungeon, then. 

** Jul. The page, 
" The thrall of love, more than the dungeon's thrall, 
" Is there % 

*' Wal. He is. He lies in fetters.'* 

Jul. Hard!— 
Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on ! 

Wal. Some one unrivets them. 

Jul. The princess 1 'Tis ! 

Wal. It is another page. 

Jul. It is herself! 

Wal. Her skin is fair ; and his is berry -brown. 
His locks are raven black ; and hers are gold. 

Jul. Love's cunning at disguises ! spite of locksj 
Skin, vesture, — it is she, and only she ! 
What will not constant woman do for love, 
That's loved with constancy ! Set her the task, 
Virtue approving, that will baffle her ! 
O'ertax her stooping, patience, courage, wit ! 
My life upon it, 'tis the princess self, 
Transformed into a page ! 

Wal. The dungeon dooi 
Stands open, and you see beyond— 

Jul,. Her father 1 

Wal. No ; a steed. 

Jul. [Starling up.\ Oh, welcome steed. 
My heart bounds at the thought of thee ! Thou conr'gt 



ScES^n.] '^^'^^ HUNCHBACK ©7 

To bear the page from Donds to liberty. 
What else '? 

Wal. [Rising.] The story's told. 

Jul. Too briefly told ! 
Oh, happy princess, that had wealth and state 
To lay them down for love ! " Whose constant lore 
•' Appearances approved, not falsified ! 
'* A winner in thy loss as well as gain." 

WaL Weighs love so much'? 

Jul. What would yea '.veigh 'gainst love 
That's true 1 Tell m<; vdth what you'd turn the scale ! 
Yea, make the index waver ^ Wealth t A feather ! 
Rank 1 Tinsel against bullion in the balance ! 
The love of kindred 1 That to set 'gainst love ! 
Friendship comes nearest to 't ; but put it in, 
And friendship kicks the beam ! — weigh nothing 'gainst it! 
Weigh love against the world ! 
" Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it. 

" Wal. And such a one art thou. Who wisely wed, 
" Wed happily. The ]ove thou speak'st of, 
" A flower is only, that its season has, 
" Which they must look to see the withering of, 
"Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom! 
" But wisdom is the constant evergreen 
"Which lives the whole year through! Be that youf 
flower ! 

Enter a Servant, l. 

Well 1 

Ser. My Lord's secretary is without. 
He brings a letter for her ladyship, 
And craves admittance to her. 

Wal. Show him in. 

Jul. Nl ! 

Wal. Thou must see him. To show slight to him, 
Were slighting him that sent him. Show him in ! 

[Exit Servant, i« 
Some en-and proper'for thy private ear, 
Besides the letter. What's the matter 1 V/ny 
This paleness and this trembling 1 Mark me, Julia ! 
[f, from these nuptials which thyself invited — 
WTiich, at thy seelnng, came — thou would'st be freed. 



68 THE HUNCHBACK 



[ActH 



Thou hast gone too far ! Receding were diagiace, 

Sooner than see thee suffer which, the hearts 

That love thee most, would wish thee dead ! Reflect » 

Take thought ! Collect thyself ! With dignity 

Receive thy bridegroom's messenger ! for sure 

As dawns to-morrow's sun, to-morrow night 

Sees thee a wedded bride ! [EzU^ C 

Jul. \Alonc.] A wedded bride 1 
fs i»: a dream ] " Is it a phantasm ? 'Tij 
' Too horrible for reality ! for aught else 
" Too palpable !" Oh, would it were a dream ! 
lEow would I bless the sun that waked me from it? 
" I perish ! Like some desperate mariner 
" Impatient of a strange and hostile land, 
" Who rashly hoists his sail, and puts to sea, 
" And being fast on reefs and quicksands borne, 
" Essays in vain once more to make the land, 
" Whence wind and current drive him" — I am wrecked • 
By mine own act ! What ! no escape 1 no hope t 
None ! I must e'en abide these hated nuptials ! 
Hated ! — Ay ! own it, and then curse thyself ! 
That mad'st the bane thou loathest — for the love 
Thou bear'st to one, who never can be thine ! 
Yes — love ! Deceive thyself no longer. False 
To say 'tis pity for his fall, — " respect, 
" Engendered by a hollow world's disdain, 
" Which hoots whom fickle fortune cheers no more ! 
" 'Tis none of these :" 'tis love— and if not love, 
Why, then, idolatry ! Ay, that's the name 
To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion, 
That ever woman's neart was borne away by ! 
He comes ! Thou'dst play the lady, — play it now ! 

E'/iter Servant, l., coriduUing Ci,\¥¥okd, plainly attired^ cu 
Earl of Rochdale's Secretary. 

Ser, His lordship's secretary. [Exit, E. 

Jul, Speaks he noti 
Or doc<3 he wait for orders to unfo'id 
His business'? Stopped his businBSj till I spoke, 
Vd hold iiy peace fo 'ever ! 

[ Clifford I ^eels, -presenting a lett^ 
Doe» he kneel ] 



IT.] 



THE HUNCHBACK. S§ 



A lady am 1 to my heart's content ! 

Could he unmake me that which claims his kr.ee, 

I'd kneel to him, — I would ! I would !— Your will 1 

Clif. This letter from my lord. 
Jul. Oh, fate ! who speaks ] 

Clif. The secretary of" my lord. [Rises. 

Jul. I breathe ! 
I could have sworn 'twas he ! 

[Makes an effort to look at Mm, hut is unable. 
So like the voice — 

I dare not look, lest there the form should -stand ! 
How came he by that voice 1 'Tis Clifford's voice, 
If ever Clifford spoke ! " My feai^s come back" — 
Clifford the secretary of my lord ! 
Fortune hath freaks, but none so mad as thati 
It cannot be ! — it should not be ! — a look, 
And all were set at rest. 

[Tries to look at Imn again, hut cannct. 
So strong my fears. 

Dread to confirm them takes away the power 
To try and end them ! Come the worst, I'll look. 

[She tries again, and is again unequal to the task. 
I'd sink before him, if I met his eye ! 

Clif. Wilt please your ladyship to take the letter ? 

Jul. There Clifford speaks again ! Not CUfFord's breath 
Could more make Clifford's voice ! Not Clifford's tongu» 
And lips more frame it into Clifford's speech ! 
A question, and 'tis over ! Know I you ] 

Clif Reverse of fortune, lady, changes friends : 
It turns them into strangers. What I am, 
I have not always been 1 

Jul. Could I not name you ? 

CliJ-. If your disdain for one, perhaps too bold 
When hollow fortune called him favourite, — 
" Now by her fickleness perforce reduced 
' To take an humble tone," would suffer you — 

Jul. I might 1 

Clif You might i 

Jul. Oh, Clifford ! is it you 1 

Clif Your answer ti my lord. \Crivet the letter 

Jul. Your lord ! 

GUf Wilt write it 



60 THE HUNCHBACK. 



TAnXl 



Or, will ft p ease you send a verbal one 1 
['11 bear it faithfully. 

Jul. You'll bear it 1 

Clif. Madam, 
Your pardon, but my haste is somewhat urgent. 
My lord's impatient, and to use despatch 
Were his repeated orders. 

Jul. Orders^ Well, [Takes letter 

I'll read the letter, Sir. 'Tis right you mind 
His lordship's orders. They are paramount ! 
Nothing should supersede them ! — stand beside them ! 
They merit all your care, and have it ! Fit, 
Most fit they should ! Give me the letter. Sir. 

Clif. You have it. Madam. 

Jul. So ! How poor a thing ♦ 

I look ! so lost, while he is all himself! 
Have I no pride? [She: rings the Servant enters^ r. 

Paper, and pen and ink ! \Exit Servant, r. 

If he can freeze, 'tis time that I grow cold ! 
I'll read the letter. 

[ Opens it] and holds it as about to read it 
Mind his orders ! So ! 
Quickly he fits his habits to his fortunes ! 
He serves my lord v/ith all his will ! His heart's 
In his vocation. So ! Is this the letter ? 
'Tis upside down — and here I'm poring on't ! 
Most fit 1 let him see me play the fool ! 
Shame ! Let me be myself! 

[Serva7it enters, r., with materials Jbr writing. 
A table, sir, 
" And chair." 

[The Servant brings a table and chair, k., and goes out. 
She sits awhile, vacantly gazing on the letter — then 
looks at Clifford. 
How plainly shows his humble suit ! 
It fits not him that wears it ! I have wronged him ! 
He can't be happy — does not look it — is not ' 
That eye which reads the ground is argument 
Enough ! He loves me. There I let him s,tand, 
And I am sitting ! [Rises and points to a chair 

Pray you, take a chair. [He bows as acknowledging, and 
declining the honor. — She looks at him, awhile 



Scm II.] THE HUNCHBACK. 6i 

Cliftbrd, why don't you sf eak to me ? [ Weepa 

Clif. I trust 
You're happy. 

Jul. Happy ! Very, very happy ! 
Yoi see I weep, I am so happy ! Tears 
Are signs, you know, of naught but happiness 
Wiien first 1 saw you, little did I look 
To be so happy ! Clifford ! 

Clif. Madam? 

Jul. Madam ! 
I call thee Clifford, and thou call'st me madam ! 

Clif. Such the address my duty stints me to. 
Thou art the wife elect of a proud Earl — 
Whose humble secretary sole, am I. 

Jul. Most right ! I had forgot ! I thank you, Sir, 
For so reminding me ; and give you joy, 
That what, I see, had been a burthen to you, 
Is fairly off your hands. 

Clif. A burthen to me ! 
"Mean you yourself? Are you that burthen, Julia?" 
Say that the sun's a burtheii to the earth ! 
Say that the blood's a burthen to the heart ! 
Say health's a burthen, peace, contentment, joy, 
Fame, riches, honours ; every thing that man 
Desires, and sfives the name of blessijiof t"o !— - 
E'en such a burthen, Julia were to mo 
Had fortune let me wear her. 
. Jul. [Aside.] On the brink 
Of what a precipice I'm standing! Back ! 
Back ! while the faculty remains to do't ! 
\. minute longer, i.ot the whirlpool's self 
vlure sure to suck thee down ! One effort ! [SzY*.] Tborel 

[Recorers lier self-poxHcssion. takes wp the letter and leads 
to wed to morrow night ! VV^ed whom 1 A man 
VVhom I can never love ! I should before 
Have thought of that. To-morrow night ! This hou* 
To-morrow ! How I tremble! '' Happy bands 
" To which my heart such freezing welcome gives, 
" As sends an ague through me !" A.t what means 
Will not the desperate snatch ! What's honour's price 1 
Nor friends, nor lovers, — no, nor life itself! 
Clifford ! This moment leave itaj I 



^2 THE HUNCHBACK [Ac« i^ 

[ ^f'^ord retires up the stage ^ out of her dgkt 
Is ne gone 1 

Oh, docije lover ! Do his mistress' wish 
That went afjainst his own ! Do it so soon ! — 
Ere well 'twas uttered ! No good-bye to her! 
No word \ no look ! 'Twas best that so he went ! 
AUs, the strait of her, who owns that best, * 

Which last she'd wish were done ! What's left me now 1 
To weep i To weep ! 

[Leans her head 2ipon her arm, which rests upon the desk 
— her other arm hanging listless at her side. Clifford 
comes do ion the stage, looks a moment at her, approach- 
es her, and kneeling, takes her hand. 

Clif. My Julia ! 

Jul. Here again % 
Up ! up ! By all thy hopes of Heaven, go hence ! 
To stay's perdition to me ! Look you, Clifford ! 
Were there a grave where thou art kneeling now 
I'd walk into'tj and be inearthed alive, 
Ere taint should touch my name ! Should some one come 
And see thee kneeling thus ! Let go my hand ! 
Remember, Clifford, I'm a promised bride — 
And take thy arm away ! It has no right 
To clasp my waist! Judge you so poorly of me, 
As think I'll suffer this 1 My honour, Sir ! 

[She hreciks from him, quitting her seat 
I'm glad you've forced me to respect myself — 
You'll find that I can do so ! 

Cbf " I was bold— 
* Forgetful of your station and my own." 
There was a time I held your hand unchid I 
There was a time I might have clasped youT waist— 
f bad forgot that time was past and gone ! 
1 pray you, pardon me ! 

.Jul. [Softened.] I do so, Clifford. 

Cl/f. I shall no more offend. 

Jffl. Make sure of that. 
No longer is it fit thou keep'st thy post 
hi*s lordship's household. Give it up ! i daj«" 
An hour remain not in it ! 

Chf Wherefore 1 

Jul Live 



Scene II j 



THE HUNCHBACK. 63 



In the same house with me, and I another's 1 

Put miles, put leagues between us ! The same land 

Should not contain us. " Oceans should divide us — 

'' With barriers of constant tempests — such 

* As manners durst not tempt I" Oh, Clifford ! Cliffoid I 

Rash was the act, so light that gave me up, 

That stung a woman's ju'ide, and drove her mad — 

rill, in her frenzy, she destroyed her peace ! 

O'i , it was rashly done ! Hud you reproved — 

[expostulated, — had you reasoned with me — 

Tried to find out what was indeed my heart, — 

I would have shown it — you'd have seen it. All 

Had been as naught can ever be again ! 

Clff. Lov'st thou me, Julia ] 

Jul. Dost thou ask me, Clifford ] 

C/if. These nuptials may be shunned — 

Jul. With honour 'I 

Clif. Yes. 

Jul. Then take me ! Hold ! — -hear rae, and take m©, 
then ! 
Let not thy passion be my counsellor ! 
Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be 
The iealoua guardian of my spotless name ! 
Scan thou my cause as 'twere thy sister's ! Let 
Thy scrutiny o'erlook no point of it, — 
And turn it o'er, not once, but many a time ; — 
That flaw, speck, yea, the shade of one, — a soil 
So slight, not one out of a thousand eyes 
Could find it out, — may not escape thee ; then 
Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honour! 

Clif. They can. 

Jul. Then take me, Clifford ! [Tkei/ embraeei 

Enter Master Walter, r. u. e., comes doum, r. 

Wal. Ha ! What's this ] 
fla ! treason ! What ! my baronet that was, 
My secretary now ! Your servant, Sir ! 
Is't thus you do the pleasure of your lord, — 

That for your service, feeds you, clothes yon, pays you 1 
" Or tak'st thou but the name of his dependent ]'* 
What's here] — a letter! [Snatches letter from, table, R.] 
Fifty crowns to one 



64 THE HUNCHBACK. 



lAcrlV 



A forgery ! Vm wrong. It is his hand. 
This proves thee double traitor ! 

Chf. Traitor! 

Jul. Nay, 
Control thy wrath, good Master Walter. Do, — 
And I'll persuade him to go hence. 

[Master Walter retires up the stage, r. with letter , ami 
remains there till Clifford is off. 
I see 

For me thou bearest this, and thank thee, CliiFord ! 
As thou hast truly shown thy heart to me. 
So truly I to thee have opened mine ! 
Time flies ! To-morrow, if thy love can find 
A way, such as thou said'st, for my enlargement, — 
By any means thou can'st, apprize me of it, — 
And, soon as shown, I'll take it. 

- Wal. (r.) Is he gone % 

Jul. He is — this moment ! If thou covet'st me, 
Win me and wear me ! May I trust thee 1 Oh! 
If that's thy soul, that's looking through thine eyes, 
Thou lov'st me, and I may 1 — I sicken, lest 
I never see thee more ! 

Clif. As life is- mine. 
The ring that goes thy wedding finger on, 
No hand save mine shall place there ! 

Wal. Lingers he 1 

Jul. For my sake, now away ! " And yet a word. 
'* By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me ! 
•' Go, now I Yet stay I" Oh, Clifford, while you're here 
I'm like a bark distressed and compassless, 
That by a beacon steers ; — when you're away, 
That bark alone, and tossing miles at sea ! 
Now go I Farewell ! My compass — beacon — land ! 
When shall mine eyes be blessed with thee again I 

Clif. Farewell!. \Exit, l 

J\l. An gone 1 All's care ! All's chance — all's dark- 
ness ! [Is led off by Master Walter, sl 

KtiO or ACT IV 



I] 



THE HUNCHBACK. S5 



AC T V. 

Scene I, — An Apartment in the Earl op Rochdale's. 
Enter Helen and Fathom, l. 

Fath. The long and the short of it is this- -if she mar- 
ries this lord, she'll break her heart ! I wish you could 
see her, madam. Poor lady ! 

Hel. How looks she, prithee ? 

Fath. Marry, for all the world like a dripping wet cam- 
brie handkerchief! She has no colour, nor strength in 
her; and does nothing but weep — poor lady! 

Hcl. Tell me again, what said she to thee % 

Fath. She offered me all she was mistress of, to tak6 the 
letter to Master Clifford. She drew her purse from her 
pocket — her ring from her finger — her ear-rings from her 
ears; but 1 was forbidden, ^and refused. And now I'm 
sorry for it ! Poor lady ! 

Hcl. Thou should'st be sorry. Thou hast a hard heart, 
Fathom. 

Fath. I, madam ! My heart is as soft as a woman's. 
You should have seen me when I came out of her cham- 
ber — poor lady ! 

Hcl, Did you cry % 

Fath. No ; but I was as near it as possible. I a hard 
heart! I would do anything to serve her, poor sweet la- 
dy! 

Hcl. Will you take her letter, asks she you again ? 

Fath. No — I am forbid, 

Hel. Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with 
lier % 

Fath. No — Master Walter wouM find it out. 

Hcl. Will you contrive to get me mto her chamber? 

Fath. No — you would get me into mischief. 

Hel. Go to ! You would do nothing to serve her. You 
a soft heart ! You have no heart at all ! You feel not for 
her ! 

Fath. But I tell you I do— and good nght I have to feel 
for her. "I have been in love myself. 

Hel. W^ith your dinner ! 

FaXh, I would it had been ! My pain would have soon 



$6 THE HUNCHBACK. f Acr t 

been over, and at little cost. A fortune I squanderi^d upon 

her ! — trinkets — trimmings treatings — what swallowed 

up the revenue of a whole year ! Wasn't I in love 1 Six 
montlis I courted her, and a dozen crowns, all but one, 
did I disburse for her in that time ! Wasn't I in love 1 
An hostler — a tapster — and a constable, courted her at the 
same time, and 1 offered to cudgel the whole three of them 
i'(;r her ! Wasn't 1 in love 'I 

lIcL You are a valiant man, Fathom. 

F(ft/i. Am not 1 1 Walks not the earth the man I am 
airaid of ! 

IIcL Fear you not Master Walter ? 

Fat/i. No. 

HcL You do. 

Fatk. 1 don't. 

Hd. I'll prove it to you. You see him breaking your 
young mistress's heart, and have not the manhood to 
stand by her. 

Fatk. What could I do for her] 

Hcl. Let her out of prison. It were txie act of a man 

Fatk. That man am 1 ! 

Hel. Well said, brave Fathom ! 
■ Fatk. But my place ! — 

Hel. I'll provide thee with a better one. 

Fatk. 'Tis a capital place ! So little to do, and so much 
to get for't. Six pounds in the year ; two suits of livery ; 
shoes and stockings, and a famous larder. He'd be a bold 
man that would put such a place in jeopardy. My place, 
Madam, my place ! 

Hel. I tell thee I'll provide thee with a better place. 
Thou shalt have less to do, and more to get. Now, Fath- 
om, hast thou courage to stand by thy mistress ? 

Fat/i. I have ! 

Hel. That's right. 

Fa/Ji. I'll let my lady out. 

Enter Master Walter, unperceived, c. 

Hcl That's right. When, Fathom ] 
Fatk. To-night. 

Hcl. She is to be married to-night. 

Fatk. This evening, then. Master Walter is now inth« 
library; the key s on the outside, and I'll lock him in. 



SnwE I.J 



THE HLTNCHBACK. 67 



Hel. Excellent ! You'll do it ? 

Fath. Rely upon it. How he'll stare when he finis 
himself a prisoner, and my young lady at liberty I 

Hd. Most excellent ! You'll be sure to do it ] 

Fath. Depend upon me ! AVhen Fathom undertakes 
a thing, he defies fire and water — 

IVal. [Coming forivard.] Fathom! 

Fath. Sir! 

Wat. Assemble straight the servants. 

Fath. Yes, Sir ! 

Wal Mind, 
And have them in the hall when I come down. 

Fath. Yes, Sir ! 

Wal. And see you do not stir a step, 
But where 1 order you. 

Fath. Not an inch, Sir! 

Wal. See that you don't, — away! [Exit Fathom l.^ 
So, my fair mistress. 
What's tliis you have been plotting ? An escape 
For mistress Julia ] 

Ucl. I avow it. 

Wal. Do you ] 

Hcl. Yes ; and moreover, to your face I tell you, 
Most hardly do you use her. 

Wal. Verily! 

Hcl. 1 wonder where's her spirit ! Had she mine 
She would not take't so easily. Do you mean 
To force this marriage on her ? 

Wal. AVith your leave. 

Hel. You laugh. 

Wal. Without it, then. I don't laugh now. 

Hcl. If I were she, I'd find a way to escape. 

Wal. What would you do ? 

Hel. I'd leap out of the windov/ ! 
Wal. Your window should be barred. 

Bel. I'd cheat you still ! 
\ \ hang myself ere I'd be forced to marry I 

Wal. Well said ! you shall be married, then, t-' -nigBt 

Hcl. Married to-night ! 

Wal. As sure as I have said it. 

Hel. Two words tc that Pray, who's to be my brida 
groom 1 



{58 THE HUNUHBACK. [Act 1^ 

Wal A daughter's bridegroom is Var father's choice. 
Hel. My father's daugliter ne'er shail wed such brid©* 

groom ! 
Wal. Indeed! 

Hel. I'll pick a husband for myself. 
Wal. Indeed ! 

Hel. Indeed, Sir ; and indeed again ! 
Wal. Go dress you for the marriage ceremony. 
Hel. But, Master Walter, what is it you mean "^ 

Enter Modus, r, 

Wal. Here i^omes your cousin ; — he shall be your bride* 
man ! 
i|i he thought's a sudden one, — that will excuse 
l-'efect in your appointments. A plain dress, — 
So 'tis of white, — will do. 

Hel. I'll dress in black. 
I'd quit the castle, 

Wal. That you shall not do. 
Its doors are guarded by my lord's domestics ; 
Its avenues — its grounds : what you must do, 
Do with a good grace. In an hour, or less. 
Your father will be here. Make up your mina 
To take with thankfulness the man he gives you. 
Now, [ As^^e] if they find not out how beat their hearts, 
( have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses. [Exit, i> 

[Helen and Modus stand at opposite wings, make a long 
pause, then hashfally look at each other. 

Hel. Why, cousin Modus ! What ! Will you standby 
And see me forced to marry 1 'Cousin Modus, 
Have you not got a tongue 1 Have you not eyes % 
Do you not see I'm very — very ill, 
And not a chair in all the corridor 1 

Modus. I'll find one in the study. [Going towards, c. n 

Hel. Hang the study ! 

Modus My room's at hand. I'll fetch one thence. 

[Going, B 

Hel. You snar't ! 
I'll faint ere vou come back ! 

Modiu. What shall I do 1 

Hel. Why don't you offer to support me ? Well? 
Q-ive me your arm — be quick ! [Modus offers his arm.] ft 
tnar the way 



gcrm^I.j THE HUNCHBACK 69 

To help a lady ivhen she's like to faint 1 z • rf 

n\ drop unless you catch me! [Falls against htm.'- tit 

mpports her.] That will do ; 
Vm Dctter x^ow— [He offers to leave her]— AoWllezse me \ 

is one well 
Because one's better 1 Hold my hand. Keep so. 
" I'll soon recover, so you move not. Loves he— Asidt] 
»* Which I'll be sworn he does, he'll own it now." 
Well, cousm Modus '< 

Modus. Well! sweet ousm !- 

Hel. Wein 
You heard what Master Waiter said '\ 

Modus. I did. . ^ , L « 

Hel. And would you have me man7 1 Can t you speak \ 

Say yes or no. 

Modtis. No, cousin. 
Hel. Bravely said ! 
And why, my gallant cousin 1 
Modus. Why 1 
Hel. Ah, why !— 
Women, you know, are fond of reasons — why 
Would you not have me marry 1 How you bok » 
' Is it because you do not knov/ the reason ]" 
You mind me of a story of a cousin 
Who once her cousin such a question asked. 
He had not been to college, though— for books. 
Had passed his time in reading ladies' eyes, 
Which he could construe marvellously well, 
■ " Though writ in language all symbohcal." 
Thus stood they once together, on a day — 
As we stand now— discoursed as we discourse,— ^ 
*' But with this difference,— fifty gentle words 
" He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him !— 
" W'iat a dear cousin ! well, as I did say," ^ 
As now I questioned thee, she questioned him 
And what was his reply 1 To tl ink of it 
Ssts my heart beating — 'twas so kind a one! 
Bo like a cousin's answer — a dear cousin ! 
A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin ! 
What did he say 1 

Modus. On my soul I can't .ell. 
Hel. A man might find it out. 



70 THE HLNCHBACK. fAc* ^ 

Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love. 
What did he say 1 He'd marry her himself ! 
How stupid are you, cousin ! Let me go! 

Modus. You are not well yet. 

Ilel. Yes 

Modus. I'm sure you're not. 

Hel. I'm sure 1 am. 

Modus. Nay, let me hold you, cousin ! 
I like it. 

Hel. " Do you ? I would wager you 
" You could not tell me why you like it. Well ! 
" You see how true I know you !" How you staie ! 
What see you in my face to wonder at ] 

Modus. A pair of eyes ! 

Hel. " At last he'll find his tongue — [Aside,\* 
And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before 1 

Modus. Not such a pair. 

" Hel. And why 1 

" Modus. They are so bright ! 
" You have a Grecian nose." 

Hel. Indeed] 

Modus. Indeed ! 

Hel. What kind of mouth have I ? 

Modus. A handsome one. 
I never saw so sweet a pair of lips ! 
I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin ! 

Hel. Cousin, I'm well, — you need not hr'id me now. 
Do you not hear 1 I tell you I am well ! 
I need your arm no longer — take't away ! 
So tight it locks me, 'tis with pain I breathe ! 
Let me go, cousin ! Wherefore do you hold 
Your face so close to mine 1 What do you mean ? 

Modus. You've questioned me, and no v I'l! question you 

Hel. What would you learn 1 

Modtis. The use of lips 1 

Hel. To speak. 

Modus. Naught else % 

Hd. " How bold my modest cousin grows !" 
Why, other use know you % 

Modus. I do. 

Hel. Indeed! 
You're wondrous wise ! And pray, what is it I 



flcKWElL. THE HUNCHBACK 71 

M)dus. This ! [Attcmj)ts to kiss ker. 

Hcl. Soft ! My hand tlianks you, couskj — for my lips 
[ keep ihem foi' a husband ! [Crosses, r,] Nay, stand off! 
I'll not be held in manacles again > 
Why do you follow me 1 

Modus. I love you, cousin ! 

lid. Oh, cousin, say you so ! That's passing strange i. 
* Falls out most crossly — is a dire mishap — " 
A thing to sigh lt)r, weep for, languish for, 
And dib ibr ! 

Modus. Lhe for ! 

Hel. Y es, \yith laughter, cousin ! 
Por, cousin, i love you f 

Modus. And you'll be mine 1 

Hel. I will. 

Modus. Your hand upon it. 

Hil. Hand and heart. 
Hie to thy dressing room, and I'll to mine — 
Attire thee for the altar — so will I. 

Whoe'er may claim me, thou'rt the man shall have me. 
Away ! Despatch ! But liark you, ere you go, 
Ne'er brag of reading Ovid's Art of Love ! 

Modus. And cousin ! stop — ^one little word with you ! 
\Beckons Helen over to 1dm, snatches a kiss. — She runs 
ojj\ R. / he takes the hook frojn his hosom, which he 
had put there in former scene, Jooks at it and throws 
it down. — Exit, l. 

► Scene II. — Julia'' s Ghamher. 

Enter Julia, l. 

Jul. No word from him, and evening now set in ! 
He cannot play me false ! His messenger 
Is dogged — or letter intercepted. I'm 
Beset with spies ! — No rescue ! — No escape ! 
The hour at hand that brings my bridegroom .bome ! 
No relative to aid me — friend to counsel me ! 

" [A knock at the doot 
•' Ome in. 

** Enter Two Female Attendants. 

" your will 1 



7% THE HUNCHBACK. |AeT f 

" 1st Attend. Your toilet waits, my lady ; 
" *Tis time you dress. 

" Jul. 'Tis time I die ! {A peal of bells.] What's that I 

" Isf Attend. Your wedding bells, my lady. 

''Jul. Merrily 
•' They ring my knell ! 

" \Second Attendant presents an open cast 
" And pray you, what are these 1 

"2nd Atte?id. Y^our wedding jewels. 

*' Jul. Set them by. 

" 2?id Attend. Indeed 
" Was ne'er a braver set ! A necklace, brooch, 
** And ear-rings all of brilliants, — with a hoop 
"To guard your wedding ring. 

" Jul. 'Twould need a guard 
" That lacks a heart to keep it ! 

" 2nd Attend. Here's a heart 
" Suspended from the necklace — one huge d amend 
" Imbedded in a host of smaller ones j 
" Oh, how it sparkles ! 

" .Jul. Show it me ! Bright heart, 
" Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false, — 
" For thou the emblem art of love and truth, — 
" From her that wears thee, unto him that gives tiiee. 
" Back to thy case ! Better thou ne'er should'st leave it— 
" Better thy gems, a thousand fathoms deep 
" In their native mine again, than grace my neck, 
*' And lend thy fair face to palm off a lie ! 

" ist Attend. Wilt please you dress 1 

" Jul. Ay ! in infected clothes 

New from a pest-house ! Leave me ! If I dress, 
'• I'll dress alone. Oh ! for a friend ! Time gallops ! 

" [Exeunt Attendant*.^ 
He that should guard me is mine enemy ! 
*^onstrains me to abide the fatal die 
My rashness, not my reason, cast ! He comes, 
That will exact the forfeit ! Must I pay it 1 
E'en at the cost of utter bankruptcy ! 
What's to be done 1 Pronounce the vow that parts 
My body from my soul ! To what it loathes 
Links that, while Ln's is linked to what it loves ! 
Condemned to sucb perdition! What's, to be done t 



5cEHl:II.] THE nUNCHEACK. 78 

Stand at the altar in an hour from this ! 

An hour thence seated at his board — a wife ! 

Thence !— frenzy's in the thought ! What's to oe done 1 

Enter Master Walter, l. u. e. 

Wal. (l,) What! lun the waves so high ] Art ready 
Julia 1 
V(i\n Lord will scon be here ! The guest* collect. 

Jul. (r.) Show rae some way to 'scape these nuptials i 
Do it ! 
Some opening for avoidance or escape, — 
Or, to thy charge, I'll lay a broken heart! 
It may be, broken vows, and blasted honour ! 
Or else a mind distraught ! 

Wal. What's this ? 

Jul. The strait 
I'm fallen into, my patience cannot bear ! 
It frights my reason — warps my sense of virtue \ 
Religion I changes me into a thing, 
I look at with abhorring! 

Wal. Listen to me ! 

Jul. Listen to rae and heed me ! If this contract 
Thou hold'st me to, abide thou the result ! 
Answer to heaven for w^hat [ suffer I — act ! 
Prepare thyself for such calamity 
To fall on me, and those whose evil stars 
Have linked them with me, as no past mishap, 
However rare, and marvellously sad. 
Can parallel ! Lay tliy account to live 
A smileless life, die an unpitied death — 
Abhorred, abandoned of thy kind, — as one 
Who had the guarding of a young maid's peace,— 
Looked on, and saw her rashly peril it; — 
And, when she owned her danger, and confessed 
Her fault, compelled her to complete her ruin I 

Wal. Hast done "? 
Jul. Another moment, and I have. 
Be warned ! Bewaie how you abandon me 
To myself! I'm young, rash, inexperienced ! Fempt9d 
By most insufferable misery ! 
Bold, desperate, and reckless ! Thou hast ige, 
Experience, wisdom, and coUectedness, — 



74 THE HUNCHBACK. JACT V 

Power, freedcm, — everything that i ha'^e not 
Yet want, as none e'er wanted ! Thou can'st save me. 
Thou ought'st! thou mast! 1 tell thee, at his feet 
ri) fall a corse — ere mount his bridal bed ! 
S-o choose betwixt my rescue and my grave : 
And quickly, too ! The hour of sacrifice 
Is ntar ! Anon the immolating priest 
Will summon me I Devise some speedy means 
To cheat the altar of its victim ! Do it ! 
Nor leave the act to me ! 
Wal. Hast done ] 
Jul, I have. 

JVal. Then list to me — and silently, if not 
Yith patience — [Brings chair for himself and her. — ^lu A. 

he L.] Sit down. — 
How I watched thee from thy childhood, 
I'll not recall to thee. Thy father's wisdom — 
Whose humble instrument I was — directed 
Your nonage should be passed in privacy. 
From your apt mind that far outstripped your years, 
Fearing the taint of an infected w(n-ld ; — 
" For, in the rich ground, weeds, once taking root, 
*' Grow strong as flowers." He might be right or wrong! 
I thought him right ; snd therefore did his bidding. 
Most certainly he loved you — so did I ; 
Ay ! well as I had been myself your father ! 

\JHs hand is resting upon his knee, Julia attempts te 

take it — he withdraws it — looks at her — she hangs her 

head. 
Well ; you may take my hand ! " I need not say 
" How fast you grew in knowledge and in goodness,-— 
•* That liope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams, 
** So soon fulfilment realized them all ! 
" Enough. You came t( womanhood. Your heart. 
" Pure as the leaf of the consummate bud, 
" That's new unfolded by the smiling sun, 
'< And ne'er knew blight or canker ! 

" [She attempts to ijlace her other hand on tits shoulder— 

" he leans from her — lomis at her — she hangs her head 

'Uigain. 
* Put it there !" 
Whesre left I off* I know I When a good woman 



8,^,^ -I ■• THE HUNCHBACK. ^6 

Is fi:;1-y tnrfted, she gruws doubly good, 

How g'>i>«» soe'er bei(;re ! I found the man 

i thougnt a match ibr thee ; and, soon as found, 

ProL)()sed vin. to thee. 'Twas your father's will, 

Occasion i)V-;ihig, )Ou should l)e married 

S( on as you u^.rtcheo lo womanhood : you Hked 

My choice — nvW(;tecl him. — We came to town ; 

Where, l)y imponunt matter, summoned thence, 

I left you an aihai;cv^d bride ! 

Jul. Vou did ! 
i''ou did ! 1 Jucans her head ujpon her hands and weejoi 

Wal. Nay, check thy tears! Let judgment now, 
Not passion, be awake. On my return, 
I found thee — what ? . I'll not describe the thing 
i ff u!id thee then ! I'll not describe my pangs 
To see thee such a thing ! The engineer 
Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower, 
" It cost him years and years of toil to raise, — 
** And, smiling at it, tells the winds and waves 
" To roar and whistle now — " and, in a night, 
Beholds the tempest sportiug in its place — 
Might look aghast, as I did ! 

Jid. [FalUng on her knees.^ Pardon me ! 
Forgive me ! pity me ! 

Wal. Resume thy seat. [Raises hgf 

1 pity thee ; perhaps not thee alone 
It fits to sue for pardon. 

Jul. Me alone ! 
None other ! 

'• Ival. But to vindicate myself, 
" I name thy lover's stern desertion of thee. 
" What wast thou then with wounded pride ? A thhig 
" To leap into a torrent ! throw itself 
" From a precipice ! rush into fire ! 1 saw 
" Thy madness — knew to thwart it were to chafe it — 
" And humoured it to take that course, I thought, 
" Adopted, least 'twould rue ! 

"Jul. 'Twas wisely done. 

*• Wal. At least, 'twas for the best. 

*' J«/. To blame thee for it, 
* Was adding shame to shame !" — But, Master Walter! 
TV*e8e nuptials ! — must they needs gc on ? 



76 THE HUNCHBACK. [AoT 7 

Enter Servant, l. u. e 

Ser. More guests 
A. r rive. 

Wal. Attend to them. [Exit Servant i 

JuL Dear Master VValtei ! 
Ir there no way to escape these nuptials 1 

JVal. Know'st not 
"liat with these nuptials comes 1 Hast thou forgot 1 

Jfd. What] 

IVal. Notiiing! — I did tell thee of a thing. 

Jul. What was it 1 

WaL To forget it was a fault ! 
Look back and think, 

Jul. I can't remember it. 

Wal. [Up from chair. \ Fathers, make straws your »'hit 
dren ! Nature's nothing ! 
^lood, nothing ! Once in other veins it runs, 
^t no more yearneth for the j)areT5t flood, 
Than doth the stream that from the source disparts. 
Talk not of love instinctive — " what you call so, 
'* Is but the brat of custom ! Your own flesh 
" By habit only cleaves to y(m — without. 

Hath no adhesion !" [Aside.] So, you have forgot 
iTou have a father, and are here to meet him % 

Jul. I'll not deny it. 

Wal. You should blush for't. 

Jul. No! 
^o ! no ! dear Master Walter ! what's a father 
'^hat you've not been to me 1 [He turns his back te he*,\ 

Nay, turn not from me, 
For at the name a holy awe I own, 
That now almost inclines my knee to earth ! 
But thou to me, except a father's name, 
Hast all the father been : the care — the love — 
The guidance — the protection of a father ! 
Can'st wonder, then, if like thy child I feel, 
And feeling so, that father's claim forget. 
Whom ne'er I knew, save by the name of one ? 
Oh, turn to me and do not chide me ! or 
If thou wilt chide, chide on ! but turn to me ! 

Wal. [Struggling with emotion.] My Julia ! \ Weeping 
he holds ^mt his hand to her : she eagerly takes ti. 



8CI5C III. J 



THE 1IL•^.HI1ACR 77 



Jul. Now, cl(?ar Master Walter, lieai me ! 
Is tliere no way to 'scape these nuptiah 1 

Wal Julia, 
A promise made, admits not of release, 
" Save by consent or forfeiture of those 
** Who hold it — so it should He pondered well • 
''Before we let it go.'' Ere man should say 
f broke the word 1 had the power to keep, 
I'd lose the life I had the power to part with ! 
Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day, 
Must to thy father of thy training render 
A strict account. While honour's left to us, 
We've something — nothing, having all but thai \ 
Now for thy last act of obedience, .Julia ! 
Present thyself before thy bridegroom ! [She aittnts.] 

Good ! 
My Julia's now herself! Show him thy heart, 
And to his honour leave't to set thee free, 
Or hold thee bound, — They come, they come !* Thy fa 
ther will be by ! [ Ji^^'/c] " [Exeujit severally 

" Scene III. — The Banqueting Room. 
" Enter Master Walter ajid Master Heautwell. 

*' Heart. Thanks, Master Walter ! Ne'er was child 
" more bent 
" To do her fathei-'s will, you'll own, than mine : 
*' Yet never one more froward. 

" Wal. All runs fair — 
'' Fair may all end ! To-day you'll learn the cause 
" That took me out of town. But soft awhile, 
" Here comes the bridegroom with his friends, and here 
** 71ie all-obedient bride. 

Kneer " on r,uv. hand Julia, and on the other,'" Lord Roch 
DALE, with ]>ouD 'TLxyKL (uid jYicnds ; afterwards Clip- 
ford, c;. D. 

• Koch (c.) Is she not fair? 

* In repreneutation, * tliey c(ime, they como '' is iiiserted as above, 
and tlu'ie is no succeeding change of scene : — ail the verses and direc- 
t:.>iis nitrked with inverted commas being omitted. Heariwell shouJ<i 
r.r'.er whh the friends of ths bride. 



70 THE HUNCHBACK [Act f 

>\» (l.) She'll do. Your servant, laily ! Msf ter Wal 
;er, 

We're cflad to see you. Sirs, you're vadcome al] I 
What vait ::hey for 1 Are we to wed or not ? 
We're ready — why don't they present the bride ] 
hope they know she is to wed an Earl. 

Rock. Should I speak hrst ] 

Tm. Not for your coronet ! 
., ds your friend, may make the first advance. 
We're come here to be mamied. Where's the bride? 

Wal. There stands she. Lord. If 'tis her will to wed, 
His lordship's tree to take ner. 

Tin. Not a step ! 
T as your frieiin, rixay \e/a.G her to your lordship. 
I.^air lady, by your leave. [Crosses (a kef. 

Jul. No ! not to yon. 

Tin. I ask your hand to give it to his lordship. 

Jul. Nor to his iorasi/)p — save he will accept 
My hand withf)ut my heart! "but I'll present 
" My knee tr) him, and, by his lofty rank, — 
" Implore him now to do a lofty deed 
" Will lift its stately head above his rank, — 
" Assert him nobler yet in worth than name,— 
" And, in the place of an unwilling bride, 
" Unto a willing debtor make him lord, — 
" Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day 
'• That still shall wait upon him !" 

Tin. What moans this 1 [CrniseSf h 

Jul. What is't behoves a wife to bring her lord 1 

Wal. A whole heart, and a true one, 

Jul. I have none ' 
Not half a heart — the fraction of a heart ! 
Am I a woman it befits to wed ? 

Wal Wliy, Where's thy heart] 
Jul. Gone — out of my keeping ! 
Lost — past recovery ! " right and title to it — 
*' And all givfMi uj) !" and he that's owi\c«i oi}'fce 
So ht to wear it, were it fifty heaita 
I'd give it ti; him all ! 

\Val. TliDu djst not mean 
His Li r lshij)'s secretary 1 
M. Yes. Away 



«c.i«m.J THE HUNCHBACF, 79 

Disguises ! In that secretary know 
The mastcT of the heart, of which, the pt or, 
Unvahied, empty casket, at your feet, — ^ 

Its jovvel gone, — I now despairing throw ! ^Aa«ew 

'♦ Of his lord's bride he's lord ! lord paramount ! 
'* To whom her virgin homage first she paid, — 
'* 'Gainst whom rebelled in frowai'dness alone, — 
^ Nor knew herself how loyal to him, till 
Another claim'd her duty — then awoke 
To sense of all she owed, him — all his worth — 
And all her undeservings !" 
Wal. Rise, my Julia ! 

TtK. Lady, we come not here to treat of hearts,— 
But marriage ; which, so please you, is with us 
A simple johiing, by the priest, of hands. 
A rino-'s put on ; a prayer or two is said ; 
You'll man and wife, — and nothing more ! For heartfi 
We oft'ner do without, tnan with them, lady ! 
Clif. So does not wed this lady. 

[Adcanccs, c. Jklia goes to liim as for protectum. 
Tin. Who are you % 

Clif. I'm secretary to the Earl of Rochdale. 
Tin. My lord 1 
Rcc/i. I know him not. 
Tin. I know him now — 
Vour lordship's rival 1 Once Sir Thomas Clifford. 

C/if. Ay, Sir ; and once this lady's bridegroom — who 
Then loved her — loves her still ! 

Jul. Was loved by her — 
Though then she knew it not ! — is loved by her 
As ntfw she knows, and all the world may know ! 

Ti?i. We can't be laughed at. We are here to wed, 
A.nd shall fulfil our contract.' 
Jul. CllH'ord ! 
C///: "Julia! 
You will not give your hand ] 

[.4 pause— Jd in seems utterly lorn 
Wal You have forgot 
Agaiu You have a father ! 

Jul. Bring him now, — 
To see thy Julia justify thy training, 
And lay hei- life down lu redeem her word 1 



80 rHE HUNCHBACK. [Act f 

]Val And fo reddcjms her all ! | Crosset, c.j Is it yjtMl 

My lord, these nuptials should go on ? 

Roek. It is. 

Wal. Then is it mine they stop ! 

Tin. I told your lordship 
You should not keep a Hunchback for your agent. 

TFa/. Thought like my father, my good lord, who «aid 
He would not have a Hunchback for his son, — 
S<j do I pardon you the savage slight ! 
My lord, that I am not as straight as you, 
Was blemish neither of ray thought nor will, 
" JMy head nor hearts It was no act of mine, — " 
Yet did it curdle nature's kindly milk 
E'en where 'tis richest — in a parent's breast — 
To cast me out to heartless fosterage, — 
Not heartless always, as it proved — and give 
My portion to another ! '* the same blood — 
" But I'll be sworn, in vein, my lord, and soul — 
" Although his trunk did swerve no more than yours—- 
" Not half so straight as I. 

" Tin. Upon my life 
" You've got a modei^t agent, Rochdale I Now 
" He'll prove himself descended — mark my words — 
" From some small gentleman ! 

" JVaL And so you thought, 
•' Where nature played the churl, it would be fit 
" That fortune played it, too. You would have had 
" My lord absolve me from my agency ! 
" Fair lord, the flaw did cost me fifty times — 
'* A hundred times my agency :" — but all's 
Recovered. Look, my lord, a testament [Skates will 

To make a pension of his lordship's rent roll ! 
It is my fatlier's, and was left by him, 
In case his heir should die without a son. 
Then to be opened. Heaven did send a son 
To bless the heir. Heaven took its gift away. 
He died — his father died. And Master Walter — 
The unsightly agent of his lordship there — 
The Hunchback whom your lordship would have stii[)ped 
Of his agent.-y, — is nov/ the Earl of Rochdale 1 

Jul the Earl cf Rochdale ' 



I An III.] 



THE HUNCHBACK. 81 



Wal And wlial of that ] Thou know'st not half my 
greatness ! 
A prouder title, -Julia, have I yet. 
Stwner than part with which, I'd give that up 
And be again plain Master Walter. What ! 
Dost thou not apprehend me ] Yes, thou dost ! 
Command thyself — d')n't gasp ! JMy pupil — daughter ! 
Come to thy father's heart ! [Julia rushes into his arrnc. 

Tin. We've made a small mistake here. Never mind, 
*Tis nothing for a lord. 

Enter Fathom, r. 

Faih. Thievery! Elopement — escape — arrest! 

Wal. What's the matter % 

Fath. Mistress Helen is running away with Master Ma 
dus — Master Modus is running away with Mistress Helea 
— but we have caught them, secured them, and he'-e tliey 
come, to receive the reward of their merits. 

Finler Helen and Modus, r., followed hy Servants. 

Hcl. I'll ne'er wed man, if not my cousin Modus. 

Modus. Nor woman I, save cousin Helen's she. 

Wal. [To HcartwelL] A daughter and a nephew has mj 
friend, 
Without their match in duty ! You shall marry. 
" For you, Sir, who to-day have lost an earldom, 
•* Yet would have shared that earldom with my child — 
*' My only one — content yourself with prospect 
" Of the succession — it must fall to you — 
'* And fit yourself to grace it. Ape not those 
" Who rank by pride. The man of simplest bearing 
" Is yet a lord when he's a lord indeed ! 

" Tin. The paradox is obsolete. Ne'er heed \ 
* Learn from his book, and practise out of mine. 

'* TFrt/." Sir Thomas Clifford, take my daughter's hanti 
L'' now you know the master of her heart : 
Give it, my Julia 1 You suspect, I see, — 
Ard rightly — there has been some masking here. — 
Well : you shall know anon how keeps Sir Thomas 
His baronetcy, still — and, for myself, 
How jealousy of my mis-shapen back 
Made me mistrustful of 9 child's afTections, 



89 THE HUNCHBACK 

Allh/)ugb I won a wife's— so that I <3roppod 

Tho title of thy father, lest thy <luty 

Should pay the debt, thy love alone could solvry, 

All^this and more, that to thy t'n(3nds and thee 

Pe-rtains, at fitting time thou shalt be told. 

But now thy nuptials wait — the happy close 

Of thy hard trial — wholesome, though severe 1 

The world won't cheat thee now — thy heart is pr3V6u 

Thou know'st thy peace by ilnding out its bane, 

A.iid ne'er wilt act from reckless impulse more ! 



DISl'OSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL Of 
THE CURTAIN. 

Clifford- Julia. 
HXLKK. Waltk*. 

Modus. ik>CEDAiA 

•iSABTWfLl. XI08K& 

Q. » 



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